Sins of the Father
by tkelparis
Summary: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.
1. Episode 1, Part 1

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only available on LiveJournal, and under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tardis:<strong> Count the adverts. It all started with me writing Life Without Joe (blowing my own trumpet). The title does not say why Joe was not there, whether he had died or walked out. It was just that he was no long there. No clue, no hint, no spoiler, no Joe. And just in case anyone else caught on before I did – episode four – that it was Joe I had to watch from a play back site because I was first burying my mum and then moving, so I actually missed episodes 2-7 until just days before the finale. My deepest thanks to bas_math_girl who saved me from being "spoilered". And, sorry, tkel, but it was not the BBC. It was ITV that made and broadcast the original. The BBC can only wish.

I got this idea after watching the original for the however-many time it was. I'd gone out to HMV to find a copy of The Politician's Wife and on the off-chance asked them if they had a copy of Broadchruch. As it happened the delivery had just arrived. I had the first copy out of the box at HMV Cardiff. There. Selfless advertising. And the Beeb still loses out. So I sat and watched it and thought I wonder what happens next? I've lived in hotels. I've been in a similar situation as Tom (and Ellie, actually, but that's neither here nor there), and I know there had to be more. Life would not have been cosy for Ellie.

So I wrote it.

LWJ was the result. And my readers liked it. Tkel refused to read it. And I fully understand and support her reasons.

However, within days of finishing and posting it I got another idea. I sat on it for months while tkel waited for the DVD, and by that time the plot bunny had stewed itself into a balrog (another plug, this one's LOTR). Tkel was busy. I was in Preston for the long awaited arrival of my first 'born in Britain'; grandchild. I have been busy looking after him and my daughter and fighting for justice for my son-in-law that the Balrog sat forgotten in a dark room on my data pen for a year. Date of starting: September 22 2013. I had a brief outline and a few notes. I basically picked at it for a year until both tkel and I were ready to put in the time and effort.

November 1 2014. One month turned into three weeks, and over 285400 words later we had a first draft. Chris Chibnall may own the copyrights and I bet his sequel is brilliant, **LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILERED! **but he doesn't have a murder. Read it and weep, Chris, my friend. Mine does. *Taggart voice* There's been a murder!

This has been a phenomenal achievement for both of us. Neither of us has done anything like this before. Working with a co-writer is not recommended for everyone. It takes a lot of patience, stamina – I had to sprint to keep up – and a strong willingness to share. I hate sharing. :D

This is going to hurt. Have tissues at the ready. I don't pull punches. Those who know my work know I have plot twists and unexpected clues, and if you miss them you'll be left behind. Make notes. You'll need them.

This is based on Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch, and a few details from the novelisation by Erin Kelly (another shameless advert), with the addition of some aspects of LWJ. If you haven't seen Broadchurch, why are you reading this first? Go away and do so, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you haven't read the novel, don't worry. I have, and you can take or leave it. It has some minor flaws and mistakes, but it is a good read. You'll find my review on Goodreads (another shameless advert) website.

Tkel and I half thought about including our own map, since the blatant error in Erin's was the mistake you'd expect from a small child. Beth's and Ellie's houses are across a field and they can see each other's kitchens; it was mentioned in the original and in the book. So I'm scratching my head trying to work out why Erin's map put them practically back to back, separated by a row of houses.

But, anyway, advertisements aside (Did you count them? There are seven.), I hope you like Sins Of The Father. We've kept it in the same style as the original eight episode format, but each one will have a different number of chapters. Hopefully, they will all be posted by the time ITV airs the sequel. Though try not to compare. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tkel:<strong> Being an American with not a lot of time on her hands to learn the tricks for getting things early from the other side of the pond, I had to wait to see Broadchurch. So I had months of reading about how good it was and how amazing David Tennant's performance was. It was more than a bit frustrating, but I give the people on my friends list credit for not spoiling anything other than Hardy's having a medical condition and one other detail. During the wait I noticed my friend Moley post a Broadchurch fanfic. Well, I did not read it. I even made a point of trying to forget I even saw one was posted. Finally the series came to BBC America, although I did not know that about two hours worth of material was cut to make room for the commercials. I was pissed off when I heard that, and promptly decided that where productions with Tennant were concerned, I would buy Region 2 only. (I had learned that computers can be manipulated to act like an all regions playing DVD player, although as of when I wrote the original note I had not yet figured it out. Trust me, I will learn soon enough.)

I was in awe from the first episode. A great cast, a heartbreaking case, and I was trying to figure out who did it almost immediately. Some I figured were unlikely, or would not be the killer without more plot twists. By the end of Episode Seven, I had a sinking suspicion who the killer was. It did not help that my memory chose then to recall what it thought was the title of Moley's fic. But I waited until the final moments had aired, and was in a bit of emotional turmoil. (Which I think we were supposed to be.) At that point, I got on Live Journal and read all five posts of Moley's fic, pausing only to comment. I needed more time to digest it fully, but I had reread it about four times by the next evening.

The thing is, my muse is the type to get ideas at the drop of a hat sometimes. Sometimes no hat, as Moley has reminded me. (giggles) Often when I am trying to work on other things. Bonzina (what I call my Muse) instantly thought about what might happen afterward, thinking about the unresolved things still there from the original story. She had thought of a plot bunny that had me intrigued. So I emailed Moley with the idea, having no idea that it would prove to be the platform for an idea that had been languishing since Life Without Joe was finished, and we bounced it back and forth – like you do when you beta read each other's work. I don't think we'd emailed about it for more than a day before it transformed into a plot balrog. (For those of you who aren't Tolkien fans, that's a giant creature of shadow and flame, "a demon from the ancient world" to quote Gandalf from the movie version of "Fellowship". Practically impossible to get rid of, as the movie showed.) Basically, it wasn't going to leave either of us alone by then, so we agreed to work on it together as soon as we could both make the time for it. Meanwhile we bounced more ideas back and forth until we had our first outline ready.

Well, although we did a lot of preplanning, we didn't get to writing until I mentioned I was thinking about what to do for NaNoWriMo 2014. Moley noted about Broadchurch 2 being filmed, and we agreed that we should get our balrog finished and fully posted before the first episode airs on ITV. And I was also working on another mystery story at the same time. Only thing is, on that story I had trouble with the outline, and stalled on it in a big way learning why my writer friends gave me the advice they did the hard way as my muse was insistent on trying something different. So I got way ahead on my parts of the story, but I used it to figure out enough so I could resume writing the other story. Even though it may never see the light of day, depending on what I think of it in the end.

Of course, I was very busy. Moved to a new city, started a new job that now means I have a profession, and had to focus on settling in. But I had managed enough that I could do NaNo once again. Although I'm still stalled on that one other story, I know one of the things I need to do with it. I also wrote a few other things, including a Christmas present for another friend – on a dare from said friend. So my grand NaNoWriMo total for 2014? 124,977. Yes. That's correct. And yet someone else managed just over 150,000. You'd better believe I intend to beat that next year.

So that's my side of the story. There will be another Broadchurch collaboration, based off an idea I had from working on this story. Stay tuned about that one. Or maybe... more than one, given that Moley and I seem to be off in slightly different directions for that one. (grins) This was a fun project, and I hope that Moley and I find additional ones to work on together. Not counting the beta reading we already do, or the times when I was utterly stuck on a story and needed more than prodding but wholesale suggestions to get it moving again. (bigger grin)

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><p><em>Summertime. Outdoors. Four girls played together in a garden, giggling as small children do. No cares of the world touched them, or if they did they pretended they did not exist.<em>

_There was an undercurrent of sadness. They all knew they would part ways, but no one knew just when they would see each other again. But it was the birthday of one of them, and so they could forget about most troubles for the time being._

/=/=/=/

_Another summer. The air was pleasant, but there was a hint of tension. Mostly in the adults watching._

_Three slightly older girls sat on a beech making a sandcastle. They shaped it in honour of the fourth who did not come, looking up at each sometimes in wonder of why they had not heard from their friend._

/=/=/=/

_Two young teenage girls walking together in a busy street, shopping. They tried to laugh, but the __aura__ around them was oppressive. Especially on the taller one. A great weight was hanging on her shoulders, __but__ the haunted look had purchase in the shorter one._

/=/=/=/=/

_Darkness surrounded the area. The moon's light barely shone through the clouds._

_A girl stepped into the light of an open window.__ She kept low, trying to be invisible. She glanced up at the moon, her face that of the shorter of the teenagers. But her formerly honey-blonde hair had been dyed black. Her face was pale even for the light out, and her whole being spoke of knowing a terror unspeakable._

_She looked and listened, closing the __window__ before she repeated the listening. Then she fled into the shadows, as quietly as she __could__._

/=/=/=/

_Under the same moonlight and yet slightly different clouds angled overhead a sixteen __year-old girl__ stood alone, partly in shadow, leaning against a brick-built bus shelter with the sound of the ocean not far away. It was the taller of the girls. Her long hair fell in waves about her shoulders and at her throat hung a locket that rested against her t-shirt. It was old, as old as she felt. She bore herself as one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, silhouetted against the light of an opening door behind her._

_In the distance the echoing cry of a newborn child broke the silence of the night._

/=/=/=/=/

**Episode One, Part One: Loss of Innocence**

Louise had been sitting in the airport lounge for six hours. She had finished her book and the puzzle book she had intended to use to while away the hours on the flight. Now she was bored. She sighed for the umpteenth time. "When will the plane be able to leave?"

Her father smiled at her. "Don't worry. It's a mechanical fault. Once it's fixed, they'll let us on board."

"I know, but it's taking ages." She looked at him, her long honey-blonde hair falling around her shoulders like a silky curtain. "Dad, what if we get there and Daisy and Hailey have already gone home?"

Her dad looked at her patiently and smiled. "Don't worry, eh. You always were the worry-wort. We will be fine, you'll see."

It wasn't just worry. It was excitement. She hadn't seen her friends for several years. All they had had were their precious letters. She hadn't been to England since they had moved to Germany when she was twelve. Finally, they were all going to meet up on holiday. At the same time.

/=/=/=/=/

Over six hundred miles away in a sleepy little town on the Dorset coast, the world was still only just getting geared up for the day. Daisy stretched in the bed and opened her eyes. Her little brother lying beside her was still asleep. The door opened and her mum walked in, while her step-dad was still asleep in the other bed.

Daisy lifted up on her elbow, noting her mother limp. "Mum, what have you done?"

"Oh, nothing," Tess dismissed. "I snagged it on the way downstairs. I wanted to see if your friend has arrived yet," she said. She gave her a grim shrug. "Excited?"

Daisy smiled widely and nodded. "This is going to be the best holiday, ever."

A cloud passed across Tess's eyes and she looked away. "It's a bit quiet, though. And we're only here for two weeks, so let's catch some sun before it's gone again."

A few minutes later, they were down stairs and out the door to catch a glimpse of the sea at the bottom of the hill. They could just see a sliver of it, but it was enough for little Ben. He had never seen the sea before, and was anxious to go down and build a huge sandcastle.

"Not so fast, little soldier," Daisy told him in amused affection. "Breakfast."

Ben turned around to smile up at her and the instant he did so dropped to his rump. "Clumsy me," he said without a thought, and got back up again. "I want a bacon and a egg and a sausage for breakfast, please?"

"That's what you think," his mother chortled, herding them all inside again. Her partner froze on the doorstep, looking out at the car park as a car disgorged its occupants. "Bruce?"

"Yeah, I'm coming." His face drained of colour as he recognised the girl with the honey-blonde hair. Daisy's friend had arrived. He recognised her from before. He hoped she wouldn't recognise him. He had lashed out once, hit her by accident when he'd aimed for Daisy. There were no hard feelings. Apparently. But still. Sometimes there were things in your past that never let you go.

He turned away, joining his family for breakfast. "Let him have a cooked breakfast, love? You're only young once, eh?"

/=/=/=/=/

Chloe sat on the low wall outside her front door, one foot tucked under her and her mobile balanced on one knee. She was waiting for a text. Her phone bleeped and she read the message and chuckled softly. She got up and waved to her dad as he stepped out of the house. She walked down the road as he made his way up towards the High Street.

She was going there later, but first she had something to do. She walked down towards the field. A house to her right caught her attention. A man in shorts looking in through a window. Sherlock Dreary; the local peeping tom.

"Oi, you pervert!" she called out.

The jogger jumped out of his skin and set off towards the field, starting out on his morning run.

A woman ran out of the house and saw him, waving her newspaper at him. "Keep moving, pervert! And don't let me catch you looking in my windows again!" Breathless she gave Chloe a smile. "Morning, Chloe. Not got school, then?"

"No, I'm finished, Mrs. Bryn. Just on my way to work," Chloe replied.

"Where are you working?"

"I've got two part-time jobs, one at the Traders' and one at the Echo. I'm at the Echo this morning."

"You're going the wrong way, aren't you?"

"Got an errand, first," Chloe said.

/=/=/=/=/

A few doors down, Paul Coates sidled out of a house on Elm Grove and looked around in all directions. There was only a jogger on the road. Sherlock Dreary, from the end, out of his morning jog, gave him a wary eye. As if he was up to no good. And the way he was running only added to that look, though Paul took it the other way.

The vicar flushed red. What he and the rest of the world didn't know. He turned to pull his girlfriend into a warm hug and smooched her for almost minute. Unaware of Chloe's keen eye.

"Morning, Paul," Chloe said as she passed.

Paul Coates' head rose. "Oh great," he muttered.

Natalie Westford giggled and pulled away. "Paul, stop it," she whispered, casting her eyes this way and that, but Chloe was gone.

"Natalie, I want you to move in with me," he told her. "Marry me," he asked, rubbing a hand with deep affection over the rather noticeable bump of her body. "Before this one comes along."

"This one?" she quieted a laugh. "You make it sound like you have a few stashed away."

Paul turned crimson. "Absolutely not. And I wasn't exactly planning on this one, either. I just... want people to know we're together. All this sneaking around."

"I'm not ready," she told him. "Please, just until my mum gets better."

"I'd like her to know the real reason why I come round," Paul said. "Not just to give her blessings and comfort."

"Soon," she promised.

"Leave it too long and she'll notice the baby," reminded her. "Your mum might be blind and bedridden and practically deaf. But she's not stupid."

"Soon," Natalie promised again and showed on his way.

Chloe cut across the field to the road, knowing Paul wasn't far behind her. Like every morning for the past year, redoing his shirt buttons and adjusting his dog collar as he made his way to the church and modest house across the road he called home. He barely noticed Chloe as he crossed the road, or the family coming down the hill. Chloe watched them. She always watched them with a careful eye. Man, woman, two kids in tow, not exactly unhappy but worried. When had she learned to distrust everyone?

"She can't be far," the woman spoke. "Broadchurch isn't that big. And she hasn't taken the car."

"Shouldn't we call the police?"

"Don't be daft, John. She's always going off exploring. I bet she's gone up to that hut we saw yesterday."

"Up on the cliffs?"

"Yeah, let's try there."

"And if she's not there?"

She sighed at him patiently. "She'll be fine. She always goes off like this."

Chloe continued on her way to the bus stop, just as a motorbike appeared around the corner by the primary school. It stopped and the rider took off his helmet to reveal Dean. She grinned and kissed him.

"Did you get it?"

He unzipped his cycle jacket and drew out a small cardboard gift box. "I've not put the pictures in yet," he said apologetically.

Chloe gave a squeal and opened it. Inside was a gold locket. "Oh that is perfect!" she said in delight. "The photos can wait." She put it on at once and tucked it under her t-shirt out of sight. "Now we'll never be apart," she said in delight.

"Have you told your mum and dad yet?"

"Not yet. I wanted for us both to be there."

"It better be soon," he suggested. "I've got to get back. I'll see you after work."

"Ok. See you later."

They parted, he continued down the road towards the seafront, while Chloe made her way up the hill into the town.

Up on the High Street, Chloe waved to Becca who was sweeping the steps of the hotel.

"Morning, Becca."

"Morning, Chloe. Could you let your dad know I have a leak in number 15? I've tried phoning him but his mobile is switched off."

Chloe took out her phone and called her dad. But there was no answer. "I bet my dad forgot to charge it. Try Nige's number." She gave her the number and Becca thanked her. "I've got to go or I'll be late. I'll see you later," she said and continued on her way as Becca made the call.

As Chloe prepared to cross the road, she noticed a girl about her age sitting on one of the concrete bollards that lined the car park. In her lap was a small boy around four years old. She smiled. "Hello."

The girl smiled readily. "Hi."

"You're visiting?"

"Yeah, with... my mum and brother and... one extra."

The pauses and tension made Chloe blink, but she kept up the smile. "Welcome. If you want to know good things to do or make some friends, I'm around a lot. I got a part-time job here."

Daisy's smile recovered and grew a little. "Sounds lovely. Ben and I only got here yesterday."

Chloe had to smile more widely at the smiling boy who waved and chirped his own hello. "So you've not had the time to look around?"

"Not much. I'm mostly looking out for my little soldier here. He's my brother, Ben."

Watching the pride the girl had in her brother and the accompanying adoration the boy had in return nearly brought tears to Chloe's eyes. "Oh, how old are you, Little Soldier?"

"Four!" He even held up the same number of fingers.

"He'll be five in October**.** He looks up to me, as you can see, and he's the bright spot in my life right now."

"The? Oh. What's your name?"

"Daisy! Get back in here!" a man's voice ordered from inside the hotel.

The smile was gone in an instant. "You don't have any good ideas on how to escape my mum and her stupid boyfriend, do you?" the girl as she up, shifting the boy to his feet.

Chloe found that odd, but dismissed it. "I'll get back to you on that, okay?"

"Okay. And it's Daisy," she added as the afterthought dawned on her as she held Ben's hand as they both walked inside the hotel.

Chloe would have started walking immediately, except that the girl looked familiar, and even more so the boy. It made her movements slower than usual. She crossed the road to the local press office. The Echo was closed, but the door was unlocked. Chloe stepped inside. The place was quiet, but not deserted.

At one of the desks, Maggie was pouring over an article Olly had pulled an all-nighter to finish for the paper. Her chin wobbled and her breath quivered. She dabbed her eyes as she reached the end and turned to him.

"Beautiful, Olly, sweetheart. That was lovely."

Olly had covered the funeral the day before. Her precious and beloved partner. He hadn't expected her to come in, if truth be told. And it looked as though she hadn't gone to bed. She was still wearing the black outfit she had been wearing the previous morning. Thankfully, sans the fascinator with the black flowers, which had not been flattering on Maggie in the slightest.

Maggie was not a skirt-and-blouse woman. Never had been. But she had donned a simple black skirt and blouse for Lil's send off. It seemed fitting. It's what she had wanted.

"She would have loved this," Maggie said, giving him a watery smile.

He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and set a mug of coffee in front of her. "You can go home, if you don't feel like being here."

Maggie gazed around her at the new room and the rest of her staff, all waiting for her to be herself again. "No," she said. "My house is full of Lil. Everywhere I look it's filled with things she made, things she gave me, things she owned, things she inherited. I needed to get out. And I know she wouldn't want me moping about, doing nothing when there could be a story out there to chase."

She stood up. "Shoo, go on, find me some stories. Give me some work to do."

Olly hurried away, amused more than scared. "Ah. Chloe. You're working with me today," he said.

"Bloody good coffee, too," she shouted across their heads. "Get out before I turn you into an office boy!" she added as Olly grinned his way out into the High Street, taking Chloe with him.

/=/=/=/=/

"You've got cheese sandwiches, a banana and a pear," Ellie called out. The Hardy household was hurried and loving it as always. "Do you want anything else?" Her hands hovered over the lunch box, ready to add anything, but all that came from the far side of the dining table was muffled complaints.

"I hate this tie!" Tom grumbled. "Why do we have to wear them?"

Hardy turned his head from the sink and smiled. He shook the washing up water from his hands and grabbed a towel. "Here. Let me help." He crossed the kitchen, drying his hands as he went and dropped the towel onto the table. "Hah, I see what you've done." He quickly unravelled the knot at Tom's throat and showed him how to do it. "Watching? Over the top and over again, up through the middle and tuck in inside, pull tight and hold the thin bit and pull to adjust. Got it?"

"Yeah," Tom adjusted the tie and folded down his shirt collar. "Thanks, Dad."

"No problem," Hardy replied. "Don't forget your PE kit and your lunch."

Tom picked up his school back, well rounded with his PE kit inside. "Did that last night. Mum. Can I have a Kit Kat in my lunch?"

"No, that's sweets, not lunch," Ellie chastised gently.

Tom gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I tried. That deserves a ten out of ten."

"Cheeky boy," Ellie grinned, passing him his box and drink. "Go and wait by the car, please. And don't forget your coat," she added, but Tom was already out the door. She turned to find her husband already getting Fred's coat on. "Are the twins ready?"

"Yeah. Both ready. I put them in the pushchair for now, otherwise I'd be running after them."

Ellie turned towards the back door where the double pushchair stood with two ten month-olds sitting in it. Catherine was trying to work out how to unbuckle herself and getting nowhere, while Harry jigged his arms up and down, humming to himself discordantly. "Aw, thanks love. And you put the right coats on this time," she teased.

Hardy lifted a brow at her. "I can tell them apart, unlike some I could mention," he teased back. "Particularly one who has to undress them to make sure."

"Har har. That was once. And I'm not the one who passed on the twin gene, clever clogs."

"Don't look at me. I think it was the Super," he replied innocently.

"Very funny. She'd be splitting her sides." She kissed him, squeezing Fred between them and making him giggle. "Is the changing bag packed for the childminder?"

"Yep, and Fred's backpack."

/=/=/=/=/

Outside, Tom hummed a tune and stuffed his lunch box and juice bottle into the little space left at the top of his backpack. He stopped to angle it better and pulled the zip closed. Seeing a flash of colour to his right he lifted his head.

Around the side of the car, where the hedge met the stone wall running along the back of the house, was a slash of creamy pink. It looked like someone had dumped a shop window dummy's leg under the hedge.

Tom didn't remember seeing that when he got home from school the previous day. He wondered if the rain had dislodged it from the far side of the hedge in the night, since people had often used the adjacent bit of land to fly-tip.

He frowned and straightened, taking a better look at it as he crept closer around the back of the car. But the closer he got the more convinced he was that this wasn't just a leg. He could see and arm, too. And hair further on.

/=/=/=/=/

In the kitchen, Ellie grinned at Fred, squished between her and her new husband. They had only been married for a month. No honeymoon; just work and kids and bills and mortgage. Not that she minded. As far as she was concerned she got honeymoon every day with this man.

"So, no kissing until we get off tonight," she reminded him.

"Get off?" he perked.

"I meant off duty, dirty-minded git," she giggled. "And Lucy's picking Fred up from Nursery, so no need to hurry."

Hardy frowned at that, but he think of worse people to take care of his son for an hour or two. Lucy was finally beginning to get her life back together after rehab, so why not keep her busy and occupied? And it was his wife's first day back after maternity leave. "You don't need to go back for another two months," he suggested.

"I know, but we need the money," she said.

He kissed her. "No kissing, no first names, no inappropriate behaviour. I know. I have been married to a copper before."

"Don't talk about her."

"Jealous?"

"You wish-"

A loud scream from outside cut them off and they rushed outside to where Tom stood retching by the car. He managed to point as he spat to clear his mouth. Thinking it was a dead animal he had seen, Hardy moved around the car and stopped in his tracks.

"Oh god!" he breathed and covered Fred's eyes, turning his head away. He hurried back to Ellie and passed Fred to her. "Don't look."

Ellie stared at him and immediately realised that this was no dead animal.

Hardy plucked out his phone and dialled 999. Seemed a bit odd phoning for the police when he was one. "Yeah, police please... Hello? Yes, my son's found a body... In our driveway... Ellie, get the boys inside. This is going to get crowded," he told her. "Yes...? Orchard Lodge, Finch Lane, Broadchurch... I'm DI Hardy, stationed at Broachchurch, and my son's name is Tom Hardy..." He glanced towards the gate and found it open. He then ushered Ellie and Tom inside the back door and closed it. "Yep, done that... Site is clear, no one's about. But the front gate has been broken open..." He glanced at Ellie through the window, who was comforting Tom with an arm around his shoulders. "He's shocked but I think he's ok... No, to my knowledge, I've never seen her before... Thanks."

He clicked to end the call and allowed his hand to fall to his side. He thought for a moment and then sprang into action.

"Ellie, get the kids into the living room. The police will be here in a minute. They'll want to talk to us. Especially you, Tom."

Less than two minutes passed before they could hear sirens approaching. And less than a minute after that SOCO arrived.

"Oh god," Ellie whispered. "This'll be all round the station in three minutes."

"Less. It's Brian," Hardy added. "He still fancies you."

"Noticed."

"I'd joke about using that to your advantage, but now's not the time," Hardy told her seriously and moved to answer the front door just as the approaching uniformed officers approached.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	2. Episode 1, Part 2

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode One, Part Two: Not So Friendly Invasion<strong>

SOCO officers needed to be efficient. Brian Young knew this as well as any of them. The more time taken the greater the odds that some evidence would be lost or ruined or degraded beyond the lab's ability to recover enough information to make it useful.

He had never imagined he would have to be guiding his own people through Ellie Miller's home a second time in the space of two years. The silicone gloves on his hands felt out of place here as he bagged a pair of shoes from the front door step and sealed the opening.

"Surely this time is someone's sick idea of a joke?"

He looked at the person who said it, a woman who was taking pictures of the dead body as fellow techs collected evidence. Her expression gave nothing away, only a focus on the necessary steps to preserve the crime scene for future reference.

Brian chose to remain silent on that score. It had been sickening to be called to go through Joe Miller's things, and he had not yet been told that Joe had already been arrested for Danny Latimer's murder. But he certainly heard about Ellie needing to be dragged away from her then husband before she could beat him to a bloody pulp. Not that he could blame her. Who would?

He took another long look at the body. It would refocus him so he could get Ellie answers so she could have some peace again. She had had enough upheaval in her life in two years to last a lifetime. Lost job to an outsider, eldest's best friend murdered, outsider's ways clashed with what she knew about her town, the town failed to help properly, her own husband turning out guilty, the outsider supporting her until they fell in love, she fell pregnant with twins and did not know until she gave birth, and she finally remarried – to the outsider.

Yeah, that was plenty. Never mind money had to be tight with a mortgage and four children in the home. She did not need this to go unsolved. Just to stay long enough to be sure they had got everything possible before the body had to be moved for the autopsy.

The young lady had been posed before rigor or lividity could set in, but something told him that the killer had barely placed her in time before the traditional clues of time of death could begin to make themselves obvious.

"Female, fair-skinned, mid to late teens. Any idea how long she's been out here?"

The tech did not look up from their tool kit, which they were drawing from to pull more evidence bags. These were to cover the victim's hands in case of any trace evidence that would identify her murderer or where she was murdered."

"Meaning she was killed elsewhere and dumped here. Do we have anything yet to clue us where?"

"Still looking, sir."

Brian took a deep breath and looked up. He could see Ellie as she stared through her window. Damn. Did the woman piss off someone upstairs to get a murder dumped on her head again? And her children were witnesses this time.

Thank god two of them were too young to understand. With any luck Fred was also not clear on what was happening.

"Sir?"

Brian looked over and frowned. One of the techs had something in their gloved hand. "Where was that?"

"Behind the body, under her hand. It's a bit unusual." The tech placed it into an evidence bag.

"It's a locket back," he quipped, taking it for a better look. "Any sign of the rest of it?"

"No, sir. Not yet."

He took in the scratch marks and how it looked like something had subtly altered the colour. If they were lucky these would prove useful in identifying the remaining parts of the locket.

Maybe they would really be lucky and the rest would be at the murder scene. If they could find it.

He was still left with the question of why this dump site. What was the murderer's motivation in drawing attention to this house? To this family? Was it an opportunity of convenience, or was this deliberately chosen?

He knew which he would prefer, even if it made solving the case harder. He did not want anyone targeting someone he knew.

/=/=/=/=/

Ellie stood stock still as she watched as SOCO worked on the body. She was staring out at the sight, watching as more evidence was removed. Seeing without seeing.

Tom looked slowly up at Hardy, whose own eyes grimly watched the same scene. He clung more tightly, not caring if anyone saw him not acting so much like his age. He had found a body on his family's property. He was allowed, surely. "This isn't like what happened with Danny, is it?"

Hardy drew his free hand from gripping Ellie's shoulder so he could give their eldest boy a fuller hug. "No. Danny was left away from the roads, to delay the discovery. Whoever did this wanted the body found."

"But why here?"

"That's what we and SOCO are going to find out," promised Ellie. "No one does this to a copper's home and gets away with it, Tom."

"What are you going to do when you find them?"

"One step at a time, Tom," Hardy gently chided him. "We need to find the killer first."

Tom looked behind them. Catherine and Harry lay in their car seats, giggling at Fred who was rocking them gently, singing a little ditty he had learned at nursery; 'the wheels on the bus go round and round...' oblivious to his parent's concerns. The sight brought a tiny smile to the big brother's eyes. "I'm glad he doesn't know."

Hardy and Ellie looked behind, too. They shared a grim look. "Us, too, Tom," she agreed. "Us, too."

DS Anna Broomewalked up to them. "DI Hardy, sir, Ellie, a word?"

Her tone was clipped, but nothing was given away.

Hardy patted Tom's shoulder. "Watch over your siblings a moment, eh?"

Tom nodded and watched as they walked away and out of sight. He stepped closer to his brother and the twins, looking down as Fred continued the song.

"The ladies on the bus go natter, natter, natter..."

Sighing, Tom looked back outside from his new vantage point. It was harder to see details, but it looked like they were getting ready to maybe move the body. Or were they just getting more evidence collected first?

Either way, he saw SOCO Brian walking away.

At the side door Alec and Ellie got a surprise that made them stop. "Sir?" they both said.

Superintendent Sandra O'Malley stood in the doorway, speaking quietly with one of the uniformed officers until she heard her two investigators address her. She turned and tightly nodded. "Hardy. Miller. Not the circumstances any of us were expecting today. You are both absolutely certain that neither of you have seen the girl before?"

"Of course," said Ellie promptly.

"Positive," added Hardy.

"Then I can have both of you on this case for now. There is a decided lack of investigators experienced enough to handle a delicate case of this nature, which leaves me with a difficult situation. But I will be overseeing this one to ensure that no one can accuse us of not following the rules."

They nodded. "Yes, sir."

"They're going to be a while, so you should get your children out of here. Then meet me at the station. We'll have a meeting once SOCO is ready with a preliminary report. I already have officers readying the phone lines so we're prepared to deal with the public reaction this time. No one has identified her as a local, which means we will all have to put in long hours trying to find out who she is and where her family are."

Ellie's eyes widened. "Sir, you're not saying we have a dead tourist?"

"That's what I fear. The town was in enough panic when it was one of our own. If I'm right, when word gets out we will need to be ready to prevent a mass exodous from Broadchurch."

Hardy rubbed his eyes. "Not another media case," he grumbled.

Ellie swatted his arm. "Come on, let's get this day started. Tom needs to get to school before news breaks."

/=/=/=/=/

Brian walked the path toward the far side of the car and faced the woods, which was actually a stand of trees along the front of the house with a footpath running through it to the road beyond. It seemed untouched, but that meant nothing. Brian's instinct and training told him to dismiss nothing, and had him eyeing for anything that looked out of place or might be useful. Sometimes he hardly knew what he was looking for even after he found it.

One of the first rules whenever a body was found was to look at the people who found it. In this case they had three people: DI Hardy, DS Miller, and Tom Hardy. He doubted the boy was involved. The girl was bitbigger than he was, and it would have been very difficult for him to escape both parents' attention during the night, though he wouldn't have been the first to try it or succeed. There was no doubt the murder took place the night before and somewhere else.

And reason said that Hardy and Ellie were innocent. Really, what kind of a murderer would want to attract this much attention by dumping a body on their own property? These two avoided attention, never sought it unless the case required it, and generally kept themselves to themselves since Ellie's ex had been named as Danny Latimer's killer.

Ellie his instincts spoke to first. He had known her far longer, and her sense of right and wrong. Hardy he had not quite forgiven for nabbing Ellie as he had, but it was hard to argue with how well Tom and Fred were doing under the man's care. He put Joe to shame, and Brian knew that he probably could not have competed.

As he went along the path, edging into the woods, he blinked. What was that?

He stepped slowly toward the spot, and took a picture. Then he slowly knelt to place a sizing object for reference near the darkened spot by a spot of upturned dirt next to a root. Was that a scrape against the root? And shouldn't it be a little deeper into the ground?

Footprint. It had an odd indentation to it. And it didn't match the others by the car. Nor did this one match the pair of police-issue shoes they had found outside the front door – a pair that Hardy had already said were not his. He hadn't worn that type of shoe in years. And this shoeprint was just... odd.

Putting aside questions he took another picture. Then called out, "I need evidence collection."

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was something. Maybe it was everything. They would not know until the tests came back. But one thing was clear. Someone had tripped here recently, in a size-7 trainer, and there was a shoe impression just a little further up.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	3. Episode 1, Part 3

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode One, Part Three: Back to work<strong>

Hardy parked the car and unfastened his seatbelt. "Ready, Tom?"

"Yep." He turned back. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"How did she die?"

"I don't know. That's will be for other people to find out."

"You will catch who did it, though, won't you?"

"You bet I will. And I'll give them a piece of my mind for scaring my son," Hardy determined.

Tom smiled bravely. "Then, I'm ready. Coz no one gets away from my dad."

Hardy allowed a small laugh and got out of the car, closed it and locked it over his shoulder. He followed Tom to the school building and pressed the buzzer.

"Who is it?" a voice erupted from the box by the door.

"Tom Hardy," Hardy replied.

"Door's open," the voice replied.

Tom pulled the door open as the door lock buzzed and they stepped inside together. They approached the reception desk, set behind a glazed window.

"Morning, Tom, the woman smiled."

"Morning, Mrs. Rutland," Tom replied. "Sorry I'm late."

The woman lifted a book onto the window ledge and rote his name in it. "Why are you late this morning?"

"I found a-"

"Police matter," Hardy interrupted. "Tom witnessed a crime. We couldn't get him in until the statements were taken. Very sorry," he finished.

"Oh my word, you poor thing!" she exclaimed. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm ok," Tom assured her bravely. "My dad's going to arrest them and lock them up."

Hardy pulled a face. "Thanks for you your confidence in my, son. Hey," he called as Tom walked off. "See you later, yes? And remember, don't talk about what you saw until I say you can. Just in case there are other witnesses. All right?"

"Yep, I know the drill."

Hardy ruffled his hair. "Good lad. We'll make a copper out of you yet."

"Bye, Dad."

Hardy thanks Mrs. Rutland, gave as much detail as he could about what had happened and asked them to be mindful of Tom's emotional state. He feared the boy was being just a little too contained. He had found a naked body in their driveway after all. Even an adult would be a little unnerved for a while.

Hardy got back to his car and drove off, continuing the journey to work. He had already dropped Elli off with Fred and the twins at the childminders. He planned to meet her at work in just a few minutes. But his first stop was the newsagents on the Esplanade.

He parked the car and walked towards the tent-like wooden structure. The owner was a young man, new to the town, having moved here from Fleet for a better life. No one had yet told him what had happened to the previous owner. Hardy supposed that was just as well. But he suspected that the man would find out sooner of later. Tongues wagged in a town this small.

He was just opening up the front shutters after having the paperboys go off to school. Before 9 o'clock it was just the papers. After that the shop was opened up for business. New Owner, new rules.

"Morning," Hardy called. He didn't know the man's name, and hadn't asked. He had already sunk into small-town mentality. Don't speak unless spoken to, but be cheerful about it, and watch everyone and everything. Much like being a policeman, he supposed. You put on a front, no matter what.

"Morning, sir," the man replied genially.

Hardy picked out a daily from the shelf, laid it on the counter and added a tube of Smarties and a Kitkat.

The man scanned the items. "That's £2:72, sir."

Hardy fished into his wallet for the change and passed it to him. "Thanks," he said and gathered up his purchases and returned to his car. He liked to by his kids a little something once a week. Something small for some achievement. Fred was too young to grasp the concept of achievements yet, so he got something anyway.

Never mind making excuses. Just for the sheer joy of being a dad, he got his sons a little treat. And he'd not hear the end of it with Ellie, but he'd make it up to her. He had a deck of aces when it came to his wife. His smile froze as something in the crowd along the seafront caught his eye.

A familiar face. Just a little of it. But the hair. Definitely the last person on Earth he wanted to see. And here she was, in Broadchurch. Like a spectre from his past. His ex wife. He stared, feeling his heart quake and the colour drain from his face.

He blinked and she was gone. The woman was someone else. Had he imagined it? Had she disappeared into the crowd? He was shaking and feeling clammy. He had to get out of here. Slightly out of breath and sweating, he fumbled for his keys and got into his car.

He had not calmed by the time he had packed in the police station car park, or even when he had gone inside and up to the first floor.

Ellie had been waiting for him. She had dropped the kids off at the nursery and the childminder's and waited for him to arrive from Tom's school. His school was a lot further away that it used to be. And the first day of dropping her babies off was no easier than it had been when she had returned to work after Tom had turned one year old.

Hardy came in, tense and looking for any sign that there had been a breakthrough already. Even though he had barely set foot inside the doors.

Ellie found some amusement in her husband's manner. "Funny time to revert completely to the man I met two years ago."

He grimaced but kept walking. "At least I've gained some tolerance for people," he joked.

"Is that what Catherine and Harry were? Tolerance?"

This time he cracked a smile. It promptly faded when they entered the CID room, even though her presence brought some cheers and applause to welcome her back from maternity leave.

She managed a tiny smile. "Okay, enough! We have a case to solve!"

It took a little more teasing from those she had known for years before she could sit down. And only then did she get the feeling that something was off.

Hardy however spotted it immediately. It seemed like all eyes were on him as he looked toward his office and the inner offices of the Super and Chief Super. He wondered what the matter was this time. At least until he also noticed that there had been a lull in the conversations along with it. One that did not go with any thoughts about Ellie's dramatic delivery of the twins. No, this seemed more like it fit with the case; the finding of a body in his driveway. But why the focus on him?

He decided to break the tension. "Any word from SOCO?" he asked the floor.

"The Super already spoke with them," Anna said. "She's been in her office since, but she poked her head out to say that there would be a general meeting soon after you both arrived. I'm sure Miller told you that already."

No, he was not imagining things. Something was up. "Is there something I need to know about? A newspaper article or a Twitter post already broken?"

Peter shook his head. "Thank, god, no. The press has no wind of this one yet."

"Then let's keep it that way until we have an ID and have spoken with the victim's family."

Ellie looked at Peter Lawson as Hardy again eyed his office. "Pete, what's going on?"

Pete and Anna both tensed, but it was Anna who answered. "I think the Super has an announcement to make, and you may be surprised by it if I'm reading her expressions correctly."

Ellie stood sat for a moment, pondering that. A new lead that altered who was investigating the case? Surely there were no ties to them, unless this girl was from somewhere her husband had once worked? He had worked many cases in his years, run across many more people in the course of investigating and questioning than she had. It was not impossible that the girl had been someone connected to one of his cases. There was an innocent explanation, wasn't there? Even to why she was dumped in their driveway.

Although why would the Super be so tense over it if she agreed that it was innocent?

Suddenly her day looked like it was about to get much worse. Much faster than it had when Danny was murdered. She hoped she was wrong.

She looked up at him and saw the grim set to his face, dropped her smile and crossed back to his side at once. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I think I have," he said. "I saw my wife."

"What?!" she hissed.

"Only for a second. I could have been mistaken, but god, I'm on edge. If it wasn't her I'll hand in my warrant and medical myself out as blind."

"You're sure it's not your heart?"

"No, the battery is good for ages yet."

"You could have been seeing things, you know?" Ellie suggested. "It's not exactly been a normal day and not the best start to an abnormal one."

"I know. But for a second I was so sure."

"Stress," Ellie suggested. "That's what it is. I mean why would she come here?"

"No reason that I could think of," he agreed.

"Well, then. Pull yourself together. Yeah? You look like a noob who's just parked in the Chief Super's parking space. We only found a body in our driveway. It's not the end of the world."

"Yeah, you're right," he grudgingly agreed.

"Of course, I'm right. I'm your wife," she told him flatly. "Tea or coffee?"

Hardy let out a quiet laugh. "Don't fuss," he returned.

"Still married, sarge?" an arriving DC asked cheekily. Pete Lawson was a friend to everyone, but had a great sense of humour that could lead him into tight spots if he wasn't careful. Usually he was a run-of-the-mill DC, but they had tasked him with locating the dead girl's family and doing for them what he had done with the Latminers two years before; hopefully with a bit more experience and fewer embarrassing faux pas.

"Yeah," Ellie smiled widely. They had only been married a month and they were still getting some friendly stick about it. "Who else would put up with him? SOCO?"

Brian walked in and smirked. "Don't tempt me," he teased giving Hardy kissey lips as he continued on towards the inner offices. "Is that before or after Ellie, sir?" he added and disappeared inside.

"That's made my day, that has," Hardy groused quietly, though he was amused on some levels. He caught Ellie's look. "I'm ok. Just ruffled as hell." He then blinked at her and frowned. "Noob?"

Ellie shook her head in exasperation. "Aw. Tom's new word. He came home with it and I picked it up."

He looked at her askance. "At least it's not a swear word. Think how bad the day would be if you learned to swear," he joked, straight faced.

"Oh, up yours. Sir," she added as he walked away to step into his office.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	4. Episode 1, Part 4

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode One, Part Four: The Start of the Real Trouble<strong>

The Superintendent walked boldly into the CID room. She was known as Sandra O'Malley at home, having married a man who had been happy to take her name - with a name like Andrew Dicks no one could blame him - but here she was ma'am, or sir on occasions. She didn't mind. It beat the name she was known by through all twelve years of school; Arrest-ocats a play on a Disney character with whom she shared her name, and the fact that everyone knew her dad was a policeman.

Sandra was standing in for the Chief-Super for this one. Elaine Jenkinson had been called away to Court. Even police officers had to do jury service. Jury service usually lasted three weeks, but she would be back in a few days. Sometimes a case was dropped or over and done with in less than a week. Sandra hoped she would have this latest business already bagged and handed to the CPS by the time Elaine got back. But you could never tell.

Sandra had a ready sense of humour and a good rapport with her officers, both uniform and CID. She was also gifted with compassion and a hard line when needed. She had almost three decades of experience with the force. It was her life. Her father was a copper, her grandfather had been a copper, and she had married a copper. Two of her children were in training and the third had already begun his beat.

She was not about to ruin it with another protracted murder case. The last one had been messy. This one had all the makings of another messy case, unless she could count on her men, and women, to catch the bastard before he or she struck again.

It seemed busier than she had ever seen it before, which she found a grim pleasure in. Broadchurch was just starting the holiday season, as Ellie had hinted at with her alarm over the thought of having to calm a swathe of people she did not know. No town that depended on the tourist industry could afford to have anyone spreading the word that it was dangerous for anyone from out of town. It had been uncomfortable enough to deal with the aftermath of Danny Latimer's death. And she had only heard about it second hand. She had been on maternity leave during the whole investigation and in some ways had been glad of that. Now, she had her first murder case to oversee.

She paused in her steps. Good god, had it been two years already?

A glance at the wall calendar confirmed it. Dangerously close to the two year anniversary of Danny's murder. And now they had a new one. She could only pray this would not prove the start of a tradition.

"Anyone called in to report a missing girl, yet?"

"Not yet, sir," Peter replied. "I'm making list of all guesthouses, hotels and bed & breakfasts to make inquiries at."

"Don't forget the mobile homes and campsites," Sandra added.

"First on the list," Peter replied, adding it to the bottom since he hadn't actually thought of it.

"Good. Has SOCO returned from the Hardy-Miller house?"

"Brian got here about five minutes ago," Ellie piped in. "He's gone straight through to the labs. He had footprints. You know what he's like with footprints."

Satisfied, Sandra detoured to the Scene Of Crime office. While the evidence needed to be processed, surely there were some leads for them to follow? Especially before they had to locate the poor girl's family and give them the start of a nightmare. Or, knowing what mothers were like when a child goes missing, the worst end of a nightmare.

She stepped into Brian's office. Something about the SOCO area always made her nose twitch. While the smell of coffee was as rampant as it was in the main room, there were always those hard to define smells that could only come from crime scenes. Hints of death and decay, old wet cigarette butts and mouldy leaves, along with the less appealing smells of nature. She recalled the first time she had stepped into one of these offices. Her nose had been assaulted by the smell of dung, fresh and pungent with half-digested rat poison.

At least today there were no hints that they had brought in manure as evidence. Her boss, Jenkinson, had a tough stomach, and so did she to an extent, but it still took an effort to not react to.

Brian glanced up. "Sir. I assume the pressure is higher than the Latimer case?"

It did not need an answer, so she got straight to the point. "Do we have anything to ID our victim with?"

He was completely focused on the case, but drew himself from his examinations and held up one evidence bag. "Apart from a half-empty cigarette packet and two photographs, the only thing we have is her mobile. She still had it on her, so it wasn't a theft-motivated murder. Tech is going over it to see if it had GPS active and we can trace where she was before it was turned off. Or, if we can isolate her transponder code, we can find trace her movements on the mobile phone grid."

Sandra nodded. "We can hope for a lucky break or a killer who forgot that we can trace a phone to within a few metres. Did she list her name?"

"Well, she has her messaging under a password lock so we're waiting for access to those. But her contacts are open for viewing. Although it barely helps us."

"Why?"

"I'm thinking either the phone is brand new or she hardly used it as a phone."

"A teenager who has a phone and isn't on it frequently? I knew they existed, just wondered how long it would take to meet one. That is not a basic phone."

Brian shook his head. "Basic phones are harder to come by these days. They all have at least a decent camera, email and internet capacity, and more features than I even know where to begin. She's only used text messaging, email, and Facebook and had taken a few pictures. Including some time-stamped from yesterday. The last one Tech thinks was taken around seven last night."

"So we have the start of a possible 'last seen alive' time. That is something. What else has the phone told us?"

"It has her parents' phone numbers. I'm liasing with Pete now to locate them. They may be in the area. But it will take some time. I want fingerprints first. There may be some that don't match the girl's."

"Yes. Do that. Anything else?"

"There's this back of a locket. Looks like it belonged to something that was supposed to break into pieces, but I couldn't begin to tell you anything other than it was heart-shaped. There's a lot of dirt left to clean, so we'll have more on that later. It was found in the middle of one of the footprints we made casts of. It might be a clue, it might not. Too early to tell."

"Is that all?"

"No. She had two photos in her jeans' back pocket. One seems recent, the other not so much. It looks several years old at least. But there was something else about it and you'll find this interesting." He held it up in its evidence back. "Innocuous looking, isn't it? But do you notice the corner?"

"It's crumpled."

"Exactly. The photo was in her pocket at an angle. As if it had been put there by someone else. It was in her right pocket, but facing her left side. That tells me instantly that someone else put it in her back pocket. Her arms aren't long enough to have reached right behind her to put a photo in her other put it in her pocket might have been the last person who saw her alive. Or they may not be connected at all." Brian psyched himself up for the big reveal. "Don't expect the photograph to be of much help," he warned and laid it down, face up, in front of her. "She's not in it. But you might recognise one of the girls in it."

"Good god!" she breathed. "That's Pippa Gilespie!"

"Exactly."

"Who are the other three?"

"No idea. The dead girl may have taken the photo. This exact photo was recorded as being in Pippa's bedroom, but no one identified who the other three girls were. But I think we'll have to find out."

"How long until the fingerprints have been collected?"

"Give us an hour," Brian asked.

/=/=/=/=/

Sandra didn't dare tell him that she had been pacing in her office for the previous hour. Once Brian and his team were done with them, she took the evidences bags with the phone and the photographs safely inside to the CID room. The first contained what looked like a freshly developed photo of their victim with another girl about her age. The way they were hugging it looked like they had been seeing each other for a long time.

The second photo – the one he pointed out – was of four girls, all around age nine if her estimate was right. She was drawn back to it, like it was trying to tell her something. The girls were beaming for the camera, all dressed for a day at the beach, and looked like they had not a care in the world. Although the way they were hugging each other and the hint of a pinched look in their eyes suggesting that they knew a separation was imminent and this might be the last time they were all going to be together.

As she looked more at the photo, Sandra frowned as connections began to form in her head.

"That's mostly what I have for you, Sir," said Brian. He wanted to go and inspect the locket piece for evidence, but knew better than to leave when the second-highest boss in the station was requesting an update. It had only been an hour, but with a murder case every second was vital and the clock was ticking. "Sir, besides Pippa Gilespie, do you recognise any of those girls?"

"One of them is the Sandbrook girl from the missing persons report a few weeks ago. The girl on the end I don't recognize." She pointed to her through the plastic. Her finger moved. "But that girl there, between Pippa and the missing girl... she looks familiar and I can't put my finger on it." She looked up grimly, and lowered her voice until she could barely be called whispering. "Why would a photo of a girl murdered several years ago turn up now? Why here? What connects Broadchurch with Sandbrook?"

Brian's eyes widened. "DI Hardy," he said reluctantly. "But that case was closed."

"And hopefully it'll stay closed."

"But would he really do something like this? He's implicating himself. It's professional suicide."

"Identified the footprints?" she asked, ignoring his implication.

"Yes and no. The shoes found by the front door match the prints by the car and body. But the one next to the footpath was three sizes smaller and do not match any of DI Hardy's orDS Miller's shoes. Wrong size, for a start. But there's something odd about that print. When someone walks, they press with the heel first and then lift at the toes. But this one is the other way around." Suddenly it came to him. "They're walking backwards."

"Why?"

Brian thought about it for a moment. "Trying to hide a fact that they're leaving. Walking backwards. Why else would someone trip on that root? It's not impeding the path and there's a street light right outside the pedestrian gate. Even in the dark, that root would be visible if you were looking where you were going. I've walked along that path myself, so I know."

"Good work. Find me a plausible alternative or find the proof to back up your theory. Carry on."

He nodded and followed the command as she left the room.

Sandra went straight to her office. Only force of habit kept her from giving off any impression that things were out of the ordinary. Well, for a police station about to investigate the murder of a 'tourist who had just arrived' ordinary.

She closed the door and went for a file the Chief Super had requested the previous year when filling the position of DI for good. Opening it, she came across one Scene-Of-Crime photo and then slowly leaned back. "I wasn't imagining things."

Frowning, she opened the Police National Computer and accessed the missing persons files. Every police officer in the country looked at this database, sometimes every week, just in case someone turned up in an entirely different area from where they were reported missing. She flipped through the pictures and stopped on one.

Hailey Bridgewater. Seventeen, reported missing about six weeks earlier in Sandbrook. The updated picture was an older version of the girl in the photograph who had caught her attention.

Her face tightened. "This is not good."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	5. Episode 1, Part 5

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode One, Part Five: On and Off the Case<strong>

The Superintendent returned to the incident room, ready for anything and pleased that everyone had already assembled. But there was a more stern air to her this time.

"Can I have your attention, please?" she called across the floor of the incident room. She didn't have a big voice. If you had a commanding presence and a respected authority, you didn't need a big voice. So her dad had told her when she joined him among the ranks at the tender age of twenty. Even as a constable, she had been getting valuable advice from the top. Not that anyone could call that favouritism. Her father had been with the Cornish Police, covering Cornwall, Somerset and Devon, while she had been assigned to Wessex. And she was still here, while he father had retired some years before. The only thing he policed these days were the dogs in his back garden and the grandchildren at weekends.

She watched her officers, CID and uniform, collect themselves in various seats, usually in cliques, CID one side, uniform on the other, though the rivalry ended at playful banter. CID often had 'sir' offered by uniform, even though they were sometimes, strictly speaking, the same rank. They all had notebooks and pens at the ready and this time it was more serious than a spate of break-ins and accidentally poisoned dog. Which she would rather have had, come to think of it, since she'd only been back after maternity leave for a short time herself. And the Chief Super was away.

She started with a photo, taken by SOCO that morning in DI Hardy's driveway that had to be kept under wraps. He had had enough of a hard time on the last murder case. She pinned the photo on the notice board beside her and began her work. Usually it was the DI who took this, but having spoken to her CO the minute Hardy's call had come in, they had given her a grave message. This had been supported by what the coroner had found during the initial examination of the body.

"Murder, young girl, around fifteen to seventeen years of age, no ID. She's possibly a tourist. Found in a driveway of a house on Finch Lane, by a minor."

Everyone knew Finch Lane. It had been called Finch Lane for generations before the railway had moved in and renamed it Station Road. After the line had been closed in the 1950's and the buildings reused as a social club, Finch Lane had had it's name reinstated. But it had taken Broadchurch's committee a long time to get it done. Especially since it was well known by the locals as Ten-Pin Pedestrian Lane, owing to the very narrow verge and no proper pavements. Even the street lights hadn't improved matters.

Sandra turned to see if she had the room's attention. Unfortunately, she did. But it would have sparked rumours if she had taken him aside and dismissed him. "DI Hardy?"

"Yep," Hardy replied, scribbling notes into his notebook.

"You're relieved from this case," the Super informed him.

Hardy's head snapped up. "I'm what?"

"Orders from above."

Hardy looked thunderous. "Yes, sir," he said reflexively and got up at once. He left the room without another word.

Ellie watched him go and looked at the Super in confusion. "Shouldn't that include me? I mean my son found the body, in _my_ driveway."

"You're heading the team," the Super informed her forthrightly. "Can't have both my senior CID officers off the same case, can I? You'll be heading the team."

Ellie closed her mouth, feeling it turn dry. Head the team? She had never done that before, had always been in someone else's shadow. Alec always told her she was ready, but with him off the team that put things in another light. But it also meant she'd have to pair up with another copper. She looked to DC Anna Stickler, who gave her a supportive smile. "Yes, sir," she replied, and pretended to be comfortable with it.

Sandra continued with her rundown. No fingerprints, the girl's an unknown. She was badly beaten, strangled and stabbed several times; it was unknown at this point which had killed her. The body had been moved from the scene of the murder; no blood pooling beneath the body, and drag marked located near the broken gate. There he evidence to suggest the murderer took very little care in concealing the body, hinting that they had expected it to be found. But there was no evidence to suggest the occupiers of the property know anything or are involved.

"What's the address?" one uniform asked.

Ellie felt sick.

"Hardy's," the Super replied flatly. "And I will reiterate what I just said," she continued boldly. "There is no evidence that the family are involved."

"But you took him off the case, sir," the uniform pointed out.

"Like I said, orders from above," she returned. "He's our most experienced officer, so the rest of you will have to work twice as hard to cover the slack." She drew another item from the wallet of noted she had brought with her and pinned it next to the first picture. It was another photo, this one a blown-up copy of a photo booth print. It was the kind that came in a strip of four, though this one was a single. "This is why. And need I remind you all that nothing seen or said in this room, leaves this room?"

"Oh god," Ellie breathed.

She stared at the second photo. She had seen it before. In fact several officers in the room had probably seen it before when looking into Hardy's background out of curiosity. They all knew that photograph from another case. If they hadn't seen it they had heard of it. And one face in particular stood out. One of the four girls in the picture looked like a younger version of DI Hardy. Now it made sense why Hardy had been pulled from the team. Someone above had a feeling Hardy was involved. Or at least as a key witness.

"Other evidence found at the scene was a gold locket. Just the back. It appears to have broken off in a struggle. The chain loop is twisted and the chain is also missing. If we find the rest of the locket, we might find the killer. Richards; get onto stolen property, see if it's listed. Get some background on where the design came from. It's been engraved with the initials DGH. Find out who this is. Someone somewhere engraved it. There might be fingerprints or a credit card receipt. Is it the victim's, the killer's, or is it unconnected? I want door-to-door, today. Daniels, Tucker; that's you."

Two uniforms nodded.

"If the residents aren't in, keep going back until they are. Post a bobby at the site, just in case the killer decides to come back. Someone they do. Jones, follow up on the post-mortem, ID, background, there might be history on her. Follow up on SOCO. Flemming, go to the local hotels and campsites, locate a family with a member down. Take uniform with you. It'll look better coming from us than some gossip in the town. Headly; I want CCTV, if there is any. Someone must have seen her or know her. I want a pattern of movements. Where has she been, when and why? Who knows her? Miller, your job is to locate the other photos. These come in strips of four. Where are the others and who are the four girls, find out how they are connected?"

"I can name three of them," Ellie spoke slowly, with a sinking feeling. "The one at the bottom is my husband's daughter, Daisy Hardy. And the one on the right is Pippa Gilespie, one of the Sandbrook girls. The one on the left is Hailey Bridgewater, a girl from Sandbrook reported missing several weeks ago.I don't know who the other one is."

"Find out. Do you recognise the locket?"

"No. It's a bit ornate for a teenager, if you ask me, and a bit stuffy for Hardy. He's not into I don't own one," Ellie replied.

"Then we will have to assume it's from the victim, the murderer, dropped by a visitor, or it's been there for a long time," the Super continued.

"I doubt the last part, unless it was buried and only unearthed by the killer," SOCO put in.

"Is it the missing pendant from the Sandbrook case?" one of the officers asked.

"No," the Super dismissed frankly. "That case is closed. The pendent was found. "We can rule out the suspect as well. He's safely tucked up in prison and won't be out for another twenty-five years." She paused for a second, reviewing her notes. "Right, that's about it. Make this a swift arrest, boys. I'm off on holiday next week, and I'd like it done and the perpetrator hung out to dry before I go. Or before Chief Super Jenkinson gets back, whichever comes first."

A chorus of 'yes sir' followed her out the door while everyone got to their feet. Ellie rose stiffly, still numb. She glanced at her husband's office through the glass partition, the chair standing empty. First job, coffee. Then she could get on with the job at hand. Two girls, related by circumstance, were dead. Two photographs of two different sets of girls; one dead from each. Two from the older photograph were missing, or at least not available for questioning. She wondered if that meant the other two were next, or if this was just random chance. And she couldn't ask her husband.

First job, coffee. Extra strong.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	6. Episode 1, Part 6

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode One, Part Six: Return of the Psychic<strong>

Hardy forced himself to walk evenly, holding in the torrent of feelings about what had just happened. Taken off the case becauseof, what? Because his son had found a body in their driveway? Why was Ellie still on the case? Did they suspect _him_ of murder?

Okay, it was his daughter in one of the photos the Super had pinned up, which meant Daisy knew the victim at one point. But he could not remember her. How could he remember all of his daughter's friends? He was pretty certain he could only name a few of the ones she spent the most time with before the last time he saw her. And five years was a long time to a father who missed his child.

It did not matter how many children he had to care for. He loved Tom, Fred, Harry, and Catherine. But there would be a hole in his heart until he could see his daughter again. Would she want to see him once she was of age? Why hadn't she returned any of his calls? Tess had not been blocking them from connecting, had she?

"DI Hardy?"

He closed his eyes. One of the last voices he wanted to hear right now. He turned slowly to face him.

"Connelly. This is a bad time."

The man was trembling, and to Hardy's keen eye looked like he had been sweating. Nervous sweating.

"Sir, I said I don't wish for these, but they come to me. And I'm sorry, but believe me, this is urgent."

Hardy rubbed his eyes. He had given Connelly no credence at first when he burst onto the scene – in a manner of speaking – of Danny Latimer's case, but he had known details about Sandbrook that there was no way anyone who had never read the case or worked on it could have known. And yet he had been right about key details of Danny's murder as well, for which he had had an alibi and so could not have been the killer. Even down to the thought that it would hurt the community – particularly Beth – more once the truth came out. So he had to be listened to, which Hardy had only done when he was getting desperate to find the killer before his heart gave out.

That had been a close call. Much longer and the doctors were certain that he would not have survived the pressure.

Still, it was not something he wished to deal with, especially not now. And yet he was trying to be more patient. Sighing, Hardy lowered his hand and met Connelly's gaze. "What?"

Connelly looked around a moment, and then lowered his voice. "It's about a girl. I saw her lying on the ground, dead. She was murdered. Was she found this morning?"

"A girl was found this morning; murder hasn't been confirmed at this stage." Even if he had got key details right, Hardy was taking no chances of giving anything away. It was simplypolice procedure: never give away every detail, always hold at least some details back to weed out the nutters from those who actually had useful information to provide.

Or for being certain that the person who confessed was in fact the perpetrator. He had over the years met some who would confess merely for the attention. It was interesting how their psychology worked, but Hardy was more interested in sending those nutters off and working on finding the real knew which category Connelly came into, even if he did have the odd useful insight.

Connelly took that as enough encouragement to continue, which he did in a hurry. "Well, I saw part of a locket near her, under the hedge where she was found."

That got Hardy's attention. No one had said a word to him about a locket, but her body had definitely been dumped under a hedge. No chance that detail had been slipped to the press yet. Near as he knew, not one word had been said to the press. And given the semi-remote nature of their home he doubted anyone had found out by merely passing by. So, no chance of a Twitter report before they had even located the family.

"But that wasn't all I saw. I kept seeing a kale leaf, a fresh but very torn one, so it must be important somehow."

Hardy frowned. Those did not grow in Ellie's garden. If anything, they grew closer to the beach. He wondered if that would be a relevant detail, if SOCO had found any on the girl's body. But it always possible that some were accidentally dragged from the beach to where she was killed. Or that she was killed by one of the beaches.

"I think she was near one when she died, or near a kale plant. And she had photos on her. One of her and **another girl. They're connected by a promise.** The other is of girls she never knew. But the two are linked. All the way back to Sandbrook. Don't dismiss anything or divide it up. It's all connected, like a Celtic Knot."

Connelly paused to see how the information was being taken, but he could get no reading off of the DI. The man was too good at hiding his real feelings. But he was not done. There was still more.

"This murder, this one is going to shake the town worse than Danny's did. And it's not going to be the only one. It's too late to stop the second, but you can and need to act to stop the third. If you don't, there will be a fourth."

Hardy stiffened. Fourth? There had only been one murder. Why was Connelly talking as if there had been a second? "I'm not investigating this murder. DSMiller is."

Connelly's eyes widened. "No, you have to be on the case. You may be the only one who can stop the killers."

"Connelly, I don't have time for this. You know too much. And you're implying that another murder has already happened. I have to place you under arrest as a suspect."

He raised his voice for the last part to draw the attention of nearby officers as he pulled out the cuffs, and began to read his rights.

Connolly spluttered in shock. "I told you, I don't wish for these visions!"

"It's not my call. You'll be answering Miller's questions as soon as she has a moment." He clicked the cuffs into place. "She's the lead investigator. Tucker," he called out to one of the passing officers,

"Sir?"

"See this man gets questioned by Miller. He knows too much about the case."

The psychic moaned and hung his head. "Here we go again," he whispered.

Hardy pretended he did not hear.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	7. Episide 1, Part 7

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode One. Part Seven: Coffee<strong>

The team had begun to disperse, some to their desks, some off to begin their allotted tasks in the field, while others had left to visit the canteen for something to eat. Ellie had opted for the latter, since she'd need a little outside help for her assignment. Better to have something in her stomach before she set off.

"Won't be a minute, Sarge," Anna called.

"Yeah, all right," Ellie called back. "I'll meet you by the car."

She left the incident room and heard shouting up ahead, but ignored it for the most part. There was often shouting in a police station. Arrested people didn't always come quietly. She thought she recognised the voice as Connelly's. And that put her right off her lunch.

She had never put that much trust in mind-readers and mediums. It was all just mumbo-jumbo to her. Hardy had first met the man during his investigation into Danny's death. Hardy had explained it away by the Connelly recognising him from when he had been in Broadchurch as a child. Ellie had a better explanation. Connelly was a nosy gossip, with satellite dishes for ears. He probably had a CB radio as well so he could listen in on police radio calls. That was her opinion, anyway.

And it might not be Connelly at all.

She stopped by the vending machine and got herself a hot black coffee. Exactly what an insomniac needed, coffee. Especially when it seemed to take forever to leave her system. She took a sip and got herself a ham sandwich from the refrigerated display and retraced her steps into the corridor.

Silently, she missed the old canteen, in the days when you had a proper cooked meal and sat down with you mates and had a good chinwag while you wound down from the shift. She supposed it had to be worse for those who worked nights. You could hardly strike up a conversation with a vending machine. Well, she supposed you could, but you wouldn't last long in the police force if you tried.

She almost walked into Hardy hurrying in the opposite direction.

"Oh, god, slow down you daft sod!" she gasped, watching the hot liquid dribble over her fingers and drip to the floor.

"Sorry, You all right?" he said, taking the cup from her so she could shake her fingers.

"Yeah. Just as well it's carpet up here. Or someone would have slipped on that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Hardy stared at her, numb, breathing hard and white as a sheet. "Connelly," he spoke.

"I thought I heard his voice," she noted. "What's he sticking his nose into this time?"

"I just arrested him," he explained. "As a suspect in the murder of the girl in our driveway."

Ellie gaped at him. "You daft bugger! This is my case!"

"I know that, but he knew things that no one else knew. Far too much information than I'm comfortable anyone but the murderer should know. He spoke like there's been another murder and more are coming."

Ellie paled. "I see why you did it."

"Knew you would. "Tucker's just taken him downstairs now."

"All right, fine. Daniels better hear about it, because he's doing door-to-door. But right now, I want a lid on it. Keep him in as long as possible, stop him talking to anyone outside. The Press would have a field day on this. Dead body found in policeman's garden. God, we'll never hear the end of it!"

He knew better than to comment. Not that he had anything to add.

"I better go and interview him." She turned and saw Anna approach on her way to the stairs. "Anna, you'll have to drag a DC with you. Already got a suspect to interview. Steve Connelly got himself noticed for all the wrong reasons. Know where you're going?"

"Sandbrook police station, Sarge. Might take me about three hours round trip?"

"Yep. Take DC Brace. He could do with a bit of in-the-deep-end training."

"Gotcha," Anna replied and walked back to the office for CID's latest rookie.

"Sandbrook?" Hardy blurted out.

Ellie looked at him. "Can't say. Except there's some paperwork we need to look at," she hedged.

"Is that why I'm off the case? Just in case I'm spotted by a former colleague? A bit childish."

"No. Bigger reasons," she told him lightly. "Now drop it. Yeah?" She gave him a smile, nice and bright, almost convincing. "Now, what's Connelly said this time that you're so far up your own arse you're running around like a headless chicken?"

/=/=/=/=/

Some twenty minutes later, Connelly looked up as the door opened. He was handcuffed. Him. Like he'd done something. He was shaking. He had come so close, got so close, and the stupid bloke had arrested him instead. He had thought Hardy was intelligent, but now he had to wonder.

He ignored the uniformed policeman standing by the door and concentrated instead on the woman who stepped into the room. He remembered her. He had been away from the town for a year and a half, but he definitely remembered her. The murderer's wife.

Lovely. The woman who had had no idea who she was sleeping with. She could not be up to the task she had to accomplish. She was a huge bump on the road to his goal. A goal he had not asked for, but he knew was important.

"He'll strike again!"

"Quiet," the woman told him. She waited for PC Tucker to set up the tape recorders and took a seat at the table, opposite Connelly. "Shall we begin?"

Tucker pressed the buttons. He recited the time and date for the recording. "PC Tucker, standing in for DI Hardy, the arresting officer,DS Hardy interviewing and PCNorris attending should the suspect's behaviour deem it necessary."

Connelly rolled his eyes.

"Right," Ellie took over. "Not your day, is it, Mr. Connelly? Marching into a police station and making threats against my husband's daughter? Could have gone a bit better, don't you think?

Connelly stared at her. "Your husband?" he blurted out.

Ellie clicked her pen. "Shall we start at the beginning, Mr. Connelly?" she suggested. "Name."

Connelly was silent for a long moment. Her husband? Did that change things? Was she a better detective than he had given her credit for?

/=/=/=/=/

Upstairs, in the call centre, a young PC pressed the receive button and readied her fingers to type.

"You're through to the police. How can I help...? Have you called for an ambulance...? I see... Injuries...? Location...? On The Esplanade...? Yes, sir. And your name is...? Broadchurch Ambulance...? Police back-up is on its way... Who found her...?"

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	8. Episode 1, Part 8

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode One. Part Eight: Discovery In The Night<strong>

Becca Fisher was polishing the bar of her hotel between servings. The kegs had flowed nicely tonight, and it was always possible it was not yet over.

"Good start to the season," said Adam Browning. He was out of uniform for the first day in forever. A day off was a rare thing in such a job as his. After he had been a victim of a violent assault he had transferred out of Manchester and moved to had accepted force counselling, on recommendation from his wife, a PC in Weymouth. She had argued that his nightmares had to be brought under control, and he had readily agreed. He was fine now and had seen his psychologist for the last time that afternoon. He had come into the Traders' to celebrate.

She smiled. "Everything helps. And I think you've had enough."

He scoffed. "Fine. Got an early start tomorrow anyway. Enjoy the late crowd!"

She waved him off with a mock rudeness that only someone who had dealt with drunker guys than him for years could get away with. She didn't care if he was a copper. He was out of uniform, so she could get away with it. He laughed at her as he stumbled off, his shoes making a loud counterpoint to the otherwise quiet room.

Becca turned back and resumed her cleaning. She had had a reasonable start to the season, even factoring the room that was closed off for repairs. This would cover those costs, especially since Mark and Nige had just arrived to deal with that leak. Thank goodness it was not more serious or she would have had to take a big hit to get it over with immediately.

Although if the season continued like this she would recoup it quickly.

A scream came from outside, a man's scream.

Becca would have stayed still, as every so often someone would shout coming out after drinking, but it was promptly followed with something alarming:

"Someone call 999! A girl's been hurt! Quickly!"

That drew Becca and the few patrons hanging around outside, although she made sure she had her mobile.

They rushed toward the shouting, which continued: "Call 999! She's badly hurt!"

Now Becca recognized the voice. It was Adam's.

She was the first to make it, hurrying the last several metres to the threshold, from where she could see across the entirecar park. And then she gasped.

There wasn't much to see from this side of the car park. But she could see the pretty girl lying in the open. There was something in her mouth, like a sock stuffed between her teeth. Her clothes were torn, and she was not moving. But the worst was the blood coming from between her legs, a river of red flowing like lava across the gravel of the disused land next door.

"Oh, God!" Becca gasped. She was instantly dialling.

**ĐĐ**

Ellie opened the questioning once Connelly finally stated his name for the recording. "Steve Connelly. My husband's favourite person in Broadchurch. So, what did you say to piss off DI Hardy?"

The shock of realising she has married to Hardy started to wear off, and the urgency of earlier resumed. "Why isn't he on the case?"

"That's a matter yet to be released to the public, as is a murder you seem to know an awful lot about. You've been through this before. Now I do have to warn you, I was not expecting to be handed this investigation when I know DI Hardy is perfectly capable of leading, but I will do everything to see the killer caught. No matter who it is. So I'm not in a mood to be messed with. Got it?"

Connelly nodded. He had always respected Ellie Miller as a cop, and this was not the time to get on her bad side.

"Now, tell me what you told the DI. Then I will ask you questions. But first, when did you get this vision?"

Connelly sighed. "An hour ago, while I was sitting at home."

Ellie mentally pictured a map of Broadchurch. Connelly's residence was in the north, off the High Street, a small flat above the bakers, which was a good walk from her and Hardy's home. No way he had casually been by, and it made it to the station to cover his tracks. "Okay, then, the vision. Be as detailed as you can."

He glanced at the recorders and sighed. "The girl... she has dark blonde hair. She's wearing the clothes she wore yesterday: blue, Next jeans and a pink t-shirt with Snoopy on the front. All I know from the vision is that she's dead. She's too motionless. Not even a hint of breathing."

"Where was she found?"

"Under a hedge, in a garden. Your garden."

That put a sudden spot of tension in Ellie's shoulders. She rubbed where her neck and shoulders met. "What makes you think it's mine?"

"It belongs to that house on Finch Lane, the one that used to be the gatehouse to Orchard Manor. I know you and the DI bought it. I have this feeling that the killer chose the spot deliberately."

"Why do you say that?"

"It's this feeling I have. I can't explain it, but it's all tied in with Sandbrook."

"Slow down. What else about the girl?"

"She was found with a piece of a locket and some photos. The locket... it's not hers, nor is it the killer's. And she had two photos on her, along with her mobile."

"Can you see the photos?"

"Yes. One is of four friends, just before they all parted. None of them is her, but one of them is one of the Sandbrook girls."

"How do you know that?"

"Pippa told me."

Ellie stilled. She had only just learned that detail from the Super. How could he know?

"The others moved away. But Pippa still lingers."

"And the girl today; where does she fit in?"

"Nowhere. I can't see what happened to her. But Pippa said there's a link. The girl in the picture, that's why I'm here. She's the DI's daughter."

Ellie remained still. "Anything else?"

"That's it about the crime itself."

"But you got some other vision."

"Yes, and the DI interrupted me before I could tell him. She's going to be a target if the killers aren't stopped."

"Our victim was killed by more than one person?"

"I'm not sure, but I know there is more than one killer on the loose right now. And I'm afraid they will strike again!"

There was a stern knock and the door opened, and PC Emma Shrove stuck her head in. "Excuse me, sir. A word?"

Ellie stood. "One moment."

Connelly nodded, looking very grim and remaining silent.

Ellie paused the recording and moved to the door, closing it behind her. "Yes?"

"Super wanted you to know that the DI's been sent out. There's been another murder."

Ellie sucked in a hard breath.

**ĐĐ**

**End of Episode One**


	9. Episode 2, Part 1

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tardis:<strong> Count the adverts. It all started with me writing Life Without Joe (blowing my own trumpet). The title does not say why Joe was not there, whether he had died or walked out. It was just that he was no long there. No clue, no hint, no spoiler, no Joe. And just in case anyone else caught on before I did – episode four – that it was Joe I had to watch from a play back site because I was first burying my mum and then moving, so I actually missed episodes 2-7 until just days before the finale. My deepest thanks to bas_math_girl who saved me from being "spoilered". And, sorry, tkel, but it was not the BBC. It was ITV that made and broadcast the original. The BBC can only wish.

I got this idea after watching the original for the however-many time it was. I'd gone out to HMV to find a copy of The Politician's Wife and on the off-chance asked them if they had a copy of Broadchruch. As it happened the delivery had just arrived. I had the first copy out of the box at HMV Cardiff. There. Selfless advertising. And the Beeb still loses out. So I sat and watched it and thought I wonder what happens next? I've lived in hotels. I've been in a similar situation as Tom (and Ellie, actually, but that's neither here nor there), and I know there had to be more. Life would not have been cosy for Ellie.

So I wrote it.

LWJ was the result. And my readers liked it. Tkel refused to read it. And I fully understand and support her reasons.

However, within days of finishing and posting it I got another idea. I sat on it for months while tkel waited for the DVD, and by that time the plot bunny had stewed itself into a balrog (another plug, this one's LOTR). Tkel was busy. I was in Preston for the long awaited arrival of my first 'born in Britain'; grandchild. I have been busy looking after him and my daughter and fighting for justice for my son-in-law that the Balrog sat forgotten in a dark room on my data pen for a year. Date of starting: September 22 2013. I had a brief outline and a few notes. I basically picked at it for a year until both tkel and I were ready to put in the time and effort.

November 1 2014. One month turned into three weeks, and over 285400 words later we had a first draft. Chris Chibnall may own the copyrights and I bet his sequel is brilliant, **LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILERED! **but he doesn't have a murder. Read it and weep, Chris, my friend. Mine does. *Taggart voice* There's been a murder!

This has been a phenomenal achievement for both of us. Neither of us has done anything like this before. Working with a co-writer is not recommended for everyone. It takes a lot of patience, stamina – I had to sprint to keep up – and a strong willingness to share. I hate sharing. :D

This is going to hurt. Have tissues at the ready. I don't pull punches. Those who know my work know I have plot twists and unexpected clues, and if you miss them you'll be left behind. Make notes. You'll need them.

This is based on Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch, and a few details from the novelisation by Erin Kelly (another shameless advert), with the addition of some aspects of LWJ. If you haven't seen Broadchurch, why are you reading this first? Go away and do so, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you haven't read the novel, don't worry. I have, and you can take or leave it. It has some minor flaws and mistakes, but it is a good read. You'll find my review on Goodreads (another shameless advert) website.

Tkel and I half thought about including our own map, since the blatant error in Erin's was the mistake you'd expect from a small child. Beth's and Ellie's houses are across a field and they can see each other's kitchens; it was mentioned in the original and in the book. So I'm scratching my head trying to work out why Erin's map put them practically back to back, separated by a row of houses.

But, anyway, advertisements aside (Did you count them? There are seven.), I hope you like Sins Of The Father. We've kept it in the same style as the original eight episode format, but each one will have a different number of chapters. Hopefully, they will all be posted by the time ITV airs the sequel. Though try not to compare. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tkel:<strong> Being an American with not a lot of time on her hands to learn the tricks for getting things early from the other side of the pond, I had to wait to see Broadchurch. So I had months of reading about how good it was and how amazing David Tennant's performance was. It was more than a bit frustrating, but I give the people on my friends list credit for not spoiling anything other than Hardy's having a medical condition and one other detail. During the wait I noticed my friend Moley post a Broadchurch fanfic. Well, I did not read it. I even made a point of trying to forget I even saw one was posted. Finally the series came to BBC America, although I did not know that about two hours worth of material was cut to make room for the commercials. I was pissed off when I heard that, and promptly decided that where productions with Tennant were concerned, I would buy Region 2 only. (I had learned that computers can be manipulated to act like an all regions playing DVD player, although as of when I wrote the original note I had not yet figured it out. Trust me, I will learn soon enough.)

I was in awe from the first episode. A great cast, a heartbreaking case, and I was trying to figure out who did it almost immediately. Some I figured were unlikely, or would not be the killer without more plot twists. By the end of Episode Seven, I had a sinking suspicion who the killer was. It did not help that my memory chose then to recall what it thought was the title of Moley's fic. But I waited until the final moments had aired, and was in a bit of emotional turmoil. (Which I think we were supposed to be.) At that point, I got on Live Journal and read all five posts of Moley's fic, pausing only to comment. I needed more time to digest it fully, but I had reread it about four times by the next evening.

The thing is, my muse is the type to get ideas at the drop of a hat sometimes. Sometimes no hat, as Moley has reminded me. (giggles) Often when I am trying to work on other things. Bonzina (what I call my Muse) instantly thought about what might happen afterward, thinking about the unresolved things still there from the original story. She had thought of a plot bunny that had me intrigued. So I emailed Moley with the idea, having no idea that it would prove to be the platform for an idea that had been languishing since Life Without Joe was finished, and we bounced it back and forth – like you do when you beta read each other's work. I don't think we'd emailed about it for more than a day before it transformed into a plot balrog. (For those of you who aren't Tolkien fans, that's a giant creature of shadow and flame, "a demon from the ancient world" to quote Gandalf from the movie version of "Fellowship". Practically impossible to get rid of, as the movie showed.) Basically, it wasn't going to leave either of us alone by then, so we agreed to work on it together as soon as we could both make the time for it. Meanwhile we bounced more ideas back and forth until we had our first outline ready.

Well, although we did a lot of preplanning, we didn't get to writing until I mentioned I was thinking about what to do for NaNoWriMo 2014. Moley noted about Broadchurch 2 being filmed, and we agreed that we should get our balrog finished and fully posted before the first episode airs on ITV. And I was also working on another mystery story at the same time. Only thing is, on that story I had trouble with the outline, and stalled on it in a big way learning why my writer friends gave me the advice they did the hard way as my muse was insistent on trying something different. So I got way ahead on my parts of the story, but I used it to figure out enough so I could resume writing the other story. Even though it may never see the light of day, depending on what I think of it in the end.

Of course, I was very busy. Moved to a new city, started a new job that now means I have a profession, and had to focus on settling in. But I had managed enough that I could do NaNo once again. Although I'm still stalled on that one other story, I know one of the things I need to do with it. I also wrote a few other things, including a Christmas present for another friend – on a dare from said friend. So my grand NaNoWriMo total for 2014? 124,977. Yes. That's correct. And yet someone else managed just over 150,000. You'd better believe I intend to beat that next year.

So that's my side of the story. There will be another Broadchurch collaboration, based off an idea I had from working on this story. Stay tuned about that one. Or maybe... more than one, given that Moley and I seem to be off in slightly different directions for that one. (grins) This was a fun project, and I hope that Moley and I find additional ones to work on together. Not counting the beta reading we already do, or the times when I was utterly stuck on a story and needed more than prodding but wholesale suggestions to get it moving again. (bigger grin)

* * *

><p><em>Summertime. Outdoors. Four girls played together in a garden, giggling as small children do. No cares of the world touched them, or if they did they pretended they did not exist.<em>

_There was an undercurrent of sadness. They all knew they would part ways, but no one knew just when they would see each other again. But it was the birthday of one of them, and so they could forget about most troubles for the time being._

/=/=/=/

_Another summer. The air was pleasant, but there was a hint of tension. Mostly in the adults watching._

_Three slightly older girls sat on a beech making a sandcastle. They shaped it in honour of the fourth who did not come, looking up at each sometimes in wonder of why they had not heard from their friend._

/=/=/=/

_Two young teenage girls walking together in a busy street, shopping. They tried to laugh, but the __aura__ around them was oppressive. Especially on the taller one. A great weight was hanging on her shoulders, __but__ the haunted look had purchase in the shorter one._

/=/=/=/=/

_Darkness surrounded the area. The moon's light barely shone through the clouds._

_A girl stepped into the light of an open window.__ She kept low, trying to be invisible. She glanced up at the moon, her face that of the shorter of the teenagers. But her formerly honey-blonde hair had been dyed black. Her face was pale even for the light out, and her whole being spoke of knowing a terror unspeakable._

_She looked and listened, closing the __window__ before she repeated the listening. Then she fled into the shadows, as quietly as she __could__._

/=/=/=/

_Under the same moonlight and yet slightly different clouds angled overhead a sixteen __year-old girl__ stood alone, partly in shadow, leaning against a brick-built bus shelter with the sound of the ocean not far away. It was the taller of the girls. Her long hair fell in waves about her shoulders and at her throat hung a locket that rested against her t-shirt. It was old, as old as she felt. She bore herself as one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, silhouetted against the light of an opening door behind her._

_In the distance the echoing cry of a newborn child broke the silence of the night._

/=/=/=/=/

**Episode Two, Part One: Bled Out**

Chief Superintendent Elaine Jenkinson breezed into the station and met a strained-faced Sandra.

"How's things?" she asked.

"Oh, sir!" Sandra practically panted. "Body was found dumped on the Hardy's property. How long will you be? Because we could really use your help. Morale is low and I've had to take Hardy off the case."

"Can't leave you in charge for five minutes," Elaine jested, but she could see immediately that Sandra was not in the best of moods. And her jest failed to make either woman smile even a fraction. So she switched to the all-important question that Sandra's words provoked. "Why is Hardy off the case?"

"There was evidence found at the scene that suggests he may have been involved or at the very least knows the killer."

Elaine's eyes widened. This was not what any commanding officer wanted to hear, but her instincts also twitched in negation. Not that anyone in her position would want to think one of her own capable of committing a crime. But Hardy? That strained the imagination and went against everything in his documented history.

Of course she had not seen Joe Miller as a killer. Only Hardy had put together the evidence. If she had been in less shock she would have been mortified.

"And you really believe that?"

Sandra checked to see whether anyone was paying attention to them. Seeing that everyone was too busy with their assigned duties or the information they were pursuing she shook her head. "I know it's a little drastic, but after the last murder case in the town I didn't want the kind of backlash against him being repeated. As it is, it's out of my hands. Orders from above."

They shared a silent groan. They had bonded more than once over the interference of top brass. Thank god it did not happen more often or they would each be needing more than pain medicine after dealing with any one occasion.

"That's all we need; top brass getting their elbows in. I'll talk to them. Where is Hardy now?"

Sandra cringed, knowing she was about to give even worse news. "An attack outside the Traders that might turn into a second murder case. He's down there now."

"Just as well the case I was jury for was thrown out, then," Elaine put in. "We were released early. I'll get changed and then you can bring me up to speed."

Although that pain medicine bottle would likely be opened again today, she silently mused.

/=/=/=/=/

A kilometre away, Hardy ducked under the police tape and approached the huddle of paramedics and police. He saw the blood first. There was a lot of blood. His heart sank. If the paramedics were here that meant evidence was going to be destroyed.

Just what he needed.

On the other hand, he willed the man doing CPR to win. If he did, that meant this was just attempted murder.

From his vantage point he could tell it was a teenager. Possibly around Daisy's age. As soon as he thought that he felt like he was watching the events like they were in slow motion. It was disturbingly like when his heart was acting up two years ago, but without the pain or panic. Just an overwhelming sense of anguish for a young life cruelly cut short. That kind of pain cut more deeply, leaving an impression that lasted a lifetime in anyone's psyche.

And the day it got easier to deal with would the day he would turn in his ID and walk away from the job. In other words, not bloody likely.

The second paramedic took over as the first slumped in exhaustion. That did not bode well. And the fact that there was so much blood. Hardy doubted there was much left in the patient.

He carefully circled, wondering who it was, and feeling a strange sense of familiarity about her. He saw Becca standing on the steps of her hotel not more than fifty metres away through the broken wire fence before someone called her back inside. And there was already a crowd. He did not like crowds in situations like this. As he stepped around the efforts to save the girl, he could already see she was dead. She had been brutally attacked.

Even from two metres away, to give them room and her dignity, he could see that she had been practically dragged here. One shoe was missing and the other dangled from her foot by the strap. Her leggings lay torn in a nearby bush, and her underwear was by her shoeless foot, torn off her, leaving a red welt across her thigh. Her top clothing, what was left of it, was soaked in places and torn off her, the buttons loose or lost.

But the most startling thing about the girl was her horribly pale complexion. It was obvious from that and the amount of blood on her and on the ground beneath her that she had bled out. She had to have had internal injuries. He didn't want to imagine her last moments. Even as a policeman, they were necessary to know, but as a father he didn't want to. He felt a rise of righteous indignation swell in his heart. If this had been his daughter, he'd have searched for the killer and beaten the hell out of him. As a policeman, he'd do the same. In the legal sense, that is. He'd nail him in court and make sure he got a very long time in jail.

He watched the paramedic sit back and record the time of death, watched the arriving doctor agree. This was his cue. SOCO were just arriving as well. The medical team stood aside and let them through. The looks on their faces just said it all. Another dead girl. Two in the space of a few hours.

Broadchurch was turning into a killing field.

But there was a problem. He had already arrested the suspect. Had he got this all wrong? Or was the real killer still out there. The thing was, his mind was already working. Both girls were killed by different wounds. He knew that just by observation. It was two killers. Had to be. Except that they were linked somehow. He recognised this girl. If he could just figure out where he had seen her face before.

His instincts were that this was linked to Miller's case, but how to prove it? What secrets did this girl have and would he find them in time to stop a third murder? If it was the same murderer he had just twelve hours to find him. If it was a different murderer, and that made him chilled to the bone just thinking about it, then he had just as long to find both of them.

SOCO moved in, while his feet seemed planted to the ground. That face... He was certain he had seen her before.

The workmen who had arrived that afternoon to lock up after a day working on a new amusement arcade had been told to park somewhere else. The crowds of interested locals and holidaymakers were being kept back by uniformed officers. They were dispersing at the same rate as new interested onlookers were arriving.

The more annoying aspect of crime was what followed; the rumours, the guesses, the accusations. And then came the even more annoying red herrings and blind alleys and the dead ends. He loved his job, but he also hated it at times. When things didn't add up and when things went nowhere and when things went wrong.

Hardy had seen it all, experienced it all. But this had to be the most graphic and horrific murder he had ever had to deal with. And this time, he had witnessed her death. Though in truth she was probably dead before the paramedic arrived. There was no surviving the injuries he was imagining.

"Sergeant Jarvis?" he called to the three uniforms standing by the barricade blocking access from the road.

"Yes, sir?" one of the three replied.

"Make sure you get detailed statements from the construction workers," he reminded him. "I need to know who was here, when, why and everything else. Alibis. I need them all verified."

"Yes, sir."

"And once the victim has been removed post someone at the gate, no one in no one out."

"Yes, sir."

The one difference from the last time was that it seemed like his orders were followed more readily. It seemed like the station had figured out how he worked and was fighting to do better than before. It was a small comfort that he would not think much further about. Although it might help them avoid many of the problems of before.

Now if they could avoid any of these onlookers getting word out to the outside world.

SOCO Brian Young approached him, looking grim. He had come straight from examining the footprints from the first murder, and looked shaken from the sight he had walked right into. This was more than enough to drag anyone down, no matter where they were from. "Sir. She didn't scream."

"Who could have done that without her screaming?" Hardy asked.

"Whoever it was stuffed a sock down her throat." He held up the evidence bag. The sock was covered in saliva and vomit. "Bloke who found her took it out of her mouth, but she didn't speak. Just died on him. Poor bloke."

"Who told you that?"

"The paramedic. They're both pretty shaken up, as well. Not our day, is it?"

He lowered his voice for the last part, even though he was certain that no one could overhear. No sense in taking chances that word of what hadhappened earlier got out without their control.

Hardy shook his head. He wished he could get rid of the sight of her mutilated body from his mind, but it was her face that really threw him for a loop. "It'll get worse if we can't find who did this. And please don't tell me they were sisters. Coz I'm in a bad enough mood as it is."

Brian fought back a shudder. That would make an already terrible situation far worse. As though two murders were not by themselves awful enough. His instincts said the two were not related by blood, but sometimes siblings did not look much alike. Getting the IDs would tell them for certain. So he focused on the information he had for the DI. "Good news. She scratched her attacker. I have evidence bags over her hands. There's skin under her nails."

"Ah, there's a girl," he crooned softly. "She had some presence of mind."

"Fought like hell too. If we're lucky the killer has some other injuries and will be spotted for them."

It might be too much to hope that she had managed to give him a rather delicate injury, but hope sometimes would come out in the most needed times and pull through for them.

Although Hardy would not be the only person who would find some measure of satisfaction if that happened.

"Get the bastard, Brian," he told him. "Get me a name and I'll overlook you flirting with my wife."

Brian gave a bit of a smile. "Twenty-four hours, tops."

"We might not have twenty-four hours."

"You're sure it's murder?"

"Positive," Hardy replied instantly.

"It could have been a sex game gone wrong," SOCO suggested.

Speculation was not usually how Brian thought during this stage, but he was curious about where Hardy planned to start. Sometimes suggesting something different, however, helped.

"I don't believe that," Hardy replied. "She fought too hard. "No. This is murder. Clear as glass. But we'll wait for the pathologist to confirm it." He nodded towards the bagin Brian's hand. "What that white froth?"

"Smells like mint toothpaste," SOCO replied. "Which means she was brushing her teeth when the attack began. There's more around her mouth. I'll know more once we get everything checked. Oh and you'll need this."

Hardy took the secondevidence bag Brian was holding out to him. It has a torn piece of fabric in it.

"Found it in her hand. It looks like a piece of a curtain."

"Thanks. Looks like we may have breadcrumbs," Hardy said. "Match this to a window, find the killer." He gazed at it intently and lifted his eyes to SOCO and then to the hotel across the car park.

Brian knew the look of someone who thought they were on to something. He was almost certain he hadhad the same look earlier when he had found the footprints. "Shall we process it straight away or do you need it for comparisons?"

Hardy's eyes narrowed as he looked back at the bag's contents. "I think I recognize this pattern."

"You do?"

"Yeah, it looks a lot like one I had to live with during the entire Latimer case."

Brian barely kept his reaction to a set of raised eyebrows, but Hardy walked away. Soon it was obvious where he was going, and Brian flinched slightly. He had a feeling they would be around a bit longer than usual.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	10. Episode 2, Part 2

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Two, Part Two: Out of Her Depth<strong>

"All I want is to help! I need to speak to DS Miller!"

Connelly's voice, normally a soft-spoken tone, was more like a bear's bellow. It was the voice of someone approaching a panicked state.

Nearby, in the corridor, Ellie groaned. "What else does he think he has to tell me that he couldn't tell my husband before the arrest?" she muttered under her breath.

The officers next to her wisely kept silent.

As two other officers brought Connelly into sight, the man became even more animated at the sight of Ellie. "Detective, you have to act!"

"I have a case to investigate. One you are interfering with," she snapped.

"And if you don't solve them, Daisy will be next!"

Ellie stiffened, her guts feeling like they had suddenly been wrung out.

Although her husband had probably been seeing things due to stress, the thought of the daughter he yearned to see pained Ellie. She wanted to meet the girl she had heard so much about, but not under these circumstances.

Besides, given what she had gathered of the first Mrs. Hardy's character she doubted that she would wish for Daisy to come near her father. Something told her that Daisy's apparent silence had not been a willing one, but she hesitated over telling him just in case she was being hopeful and something had changed. The young lady would be seventeen now, and she had seen the transformation girls could make in five years.

A few of the officers frowned. What was the significance of Connelly's latest ramblings?

Ellie kept her voice measured as she turned back to face Connelly. Suddenly she was grateful that her husband was not here for this, even if everything else about the situation bothered her. "Daisy, not that it's any of your business, Mr. Connelly, isn't in town. She's safe."

Connelly shook his head hard. "No, she wasn't safe in Sandbrook and she's not safe now. She's not in Sandbrook, she's here! And she's in grave danger! She's needed your husband's help for a long time! You have to protect her from the killers!"

The restraining officers had enough. "Come on," the more senior snapped.

Connellystruggled to keep eye contact with Ellie. "These ones are more vivid than ever! I don't know how much time you have before he strikes again! His daughter needs you to save her!"

As Connelly was led off, Ellie stood stock still, his dark curls standing out abnormally against the sudden paleness of her skin. The very idea was enough to leave her with that sickening rattled feeling.

The last time she had felt like this Hardy was lying on a hospital gurney, awaiting that surgery that saved his life but not knowing that would be the outcome.

PC Emma Shrove, fresh at the start of her shift, looked at her oddly. "Your husband has an older daughter?"

Ellie slowly nodded her head. "Yes, but Daisy is far away from here. She can't be in danger."

"I don't remember hearing about a daughter before."

"Long story."

/=/=/=/=/

Becca sat in her office, tallying outgoings against incomings on a printed spreadsheet and sighed. Business was still poor from two years on, and her mind still lingered on Mark. Not that it was his fault in either case. Getting involved with him was a stupid idea and she didn't blame the looks of distrust she had had since.

Even when fewer guests stayed at her hotel, she still remained open. The previous summer had been little better than the winter. She had the odd couple stay at weekends, some very odd couples in some cases. But money was money. As long as the guests didn't break anything or steal anything they were welcome to come again. Unlike some of the big hotel chains, she didn't have fancy items with the hotel name on them, so she didn't lose that much.

She was breaking even, which was tougher than being in the red. She had a lot of money invested in this place. She wouldn't let it go without a fight.

She lifted her head, hearing raised voices on the stairs. Behind her was the connecting door into the foyer. It was blocked off by a table with a plant on it, since there was another door through the reception desk, and often people didn't even know it was there.

"I told you, I'm on holiday," a gruff male voice ranted.

He spoke with a London accent, Becca thought. It was unclear until there was no reply who he was talking to. But then it slowly became apparent that he was talking into a mobile phone.

"I told you not to phone directly...! I couldn't give a monkeys...! I'm at the hotel... No, she's not said a word. Suggested we come down to this dead-end dump. I only agreed because her old man's down here... I'm going to nut him. What do _you_ think...? It's he fault Trev's inside... Oh for god's sake, do I have to think for you as well? Leave it where it is...! No, not until I'm in the clear... Yeah, some blonde bird... Yeah, ain't they just...Then killer her if she gets ideas... You know what I mean," the voice hissed. "If she saw something, I'll smack her one myself...! I'll deal with her. Down here no one knows her... You can easily make another five grand on her... You just stick to your story... Yeah, see that you do! I want no witnesses."

There was a loud blip from the mobile and the voice went silent. Becca's eyes shifted to the front desk where a man appeared. She watched him smack the desk bell several times.

"Anyone in?" he yelled in a less than friendly tone.

It was the same man she overheard.

Fighting to hide her trembling, Becca rose from her spreadsheets and approached the front desk. "Good afternoon. Can I help?"

"You better," the man grouched."You seen this?" he demanded indicating his legs.

Becca leaned across the counter to see his wet knees. She had no answer, since she had no idea what he was getting at.

"There's a leak in my bathroom," he clarified.

"A leak?"

"Yes. A leak," he said slowly as if she was stupid. "I expect it fixed by the time I get back."

"Which room are you in, sir?" she asked.

"Fourteen," he told her.

He had the patience of a rock, Becca realised, and looked like he had been chiselled from one. He had to work out at least four times a week to get muscles that size. And having him glare at her and learn right over her was doing him no favours.

"I'll get it seen to as soon as I can," Becca promised and watched him stalk away to the bar in the next room. Now she definitely was on edge. Actually, rattled was closer to the truth. He was a very dislikeable person. If he requested a room again she would have to tell him she was full.

Just when she thought the day couldn't get any worse, she noticed a familiar face walk in through the doors. She'd heard the sirens. She'd gone outside to see what was going on, but hadn't seen much since the paramedics arrived. And from the more intense than usual grim expression she knew that it was connected to the girl outside.

"Good afternoon, Detective Hardy," she greeted.

"Detective Inspector," he corrected gently.

"Oh. Sorry. How may I help you?"

"Did you see anything unusual happen outside your hotel at any point today?" he asked.

"Not that I can think of," she replied.

"How about inside your hotel?" he badgered. She was uneasy. He could tell.

"Nothing in here, either," she replied.

He lowered his brow. "Is something wrong, Becca?"

Becca sighed. "Oh the usual. Rude customers who want everything yesterday. And the usual threats if it's not done. Had one just before you walked in. A leak in his bathroom. That makes two in twenty-four hours. I'll have to ring Nigel and get him to come back."

"You should call the police if you're getting threats. And you're within your rights to throw people like that out."

"Yeah. I know. I can handle him. I'm an Aussie after all. I've seen worse back kind of unusual happenings are you looking for?" she asked, bringing the conversation back to why he was there. Having a policeman inside her hotel was not good for business, unless he was a guest, even one in plain clothes.

"I have reason to believe that someone was attacked in your hotel this afternoon," Hardy informed her.

"Really?" That surprised her. "That young girl outside? I haven't seen or heard anything. What makes you think it happened here?"

Hardy laid the evidence bag on the counter.

Becca stared at it. She recognised it at once as material from her curtains. There was no doubt about that. She had made the curtains herself. "Where did you find this?"

"It was found in the hand of a dead girl," he said.

Becca sank. "You mean the ambulance and sirens – that poor girl died?"

"Can you show me which room this might have come from?"

"The colour of it suggests first floor," Becca said. "There are twenty rooms up there."

"Then I'll need to eliminate each one until we find it," Hardy suggested.

She reached out to turn the desk sign around to display BACK IN FIVE MINUTES and stepped through the open door. She led the way upstairs and they began to check each room. Fourteen was as Becca feared; a blocked pipe. The water was not going down the plug hole, but over the sides onto the floor instead.

Hardy looked at the curtains while she called the plumber. The conversations wasn't very long and wasn't relevant to his case, but he filed it away for later. He couldn't always ignore even the most vague detail. He glanced around the room. It was occupied by guests, possibly a couple and child judging by the two large suitcases in the built in wardrobe and the smaller case on the single bed by the window. Although on checking again he realised that there was probably a fourth person. There were two pairs of slippers next to the single bed, one of a young child, the other much larger. A teddy bear lay on the pillow and the book sat on the bedside table was aimed at teenagers.

"You said you had another leak?"

"Yeah, in the room next door. Burst pipe," Becca said and led him out of the room. "It's been empty since last week. And the new guest noticed the water last night just after they checked in."

She unlocked the door and walked in. She froze. The place was ransacked, furniture had been move and the curtains were on the floor, the curtain rail and back board were ripped from the wall and hanging down.

"Oh my god!" she breathed. "What the hell?"

Hardy looked in on the scene and held her back by the door. He could see blood, or something that looked like blood in the wet carpet by the en suite door. "Out. Lock the door," he ordered. He took out his phone and speed-dialled a number. After a few seconds it was answered. "Brian? I've got your Scene Of Crime... Room 15 of Becca's hotel... I'm there now... Bring a few uniforms with you... I want the hotel sealed off. The suspect could be inside... Thanks."

Becca stared at him in disbelief. "This could ruin me!"

"That's a little insensitive, considering the fact that there is a child lying dead in your car park," he pointed out.

"I can't afford to be sued," she added unthinkingly.

Hardy pinned her with a hard stare. "Right now, I have a body and I have no idea if she's one of your guests or a local. But there is a family in this town somewhere who needs to be found and told their daughter, sister, girlfriend is dead. On top of that, you are, unfortunately a suspect. A little perspective wouldn't go amiss, right now!"

Hardy waited for the uniforms to arrive in numbers and seal off the building. He handed over the scene of crime to SOCO and let them do their work. He had business elsewhere.

/=/=/=/=/

In the restaurant downstairs, Mark and Beth were having meal with Chloe. Their son was asleep in the pushchair between them. Beth noticed the police first and then Hardy coming down the stairs not long after that.

"Could I have everyone's attention please?" Hardy called out. "No one is to leave the building. I would ask that you remain where you are and remain calm. There is a situation, and I would ask that you co-operate with the police as we do our job. Thank you."

"Oh, great!" Mark grumbled.

Beth turned her head to look at her. "There's been a murder," she voiced quietly.

"Oh now don't jump to conclusions," Mark told her. "Might be anything."

"With this many police?" She turned. Men with white all-in-ones carrying silver cases. She felt sick. "It's Danny all over again."

"They were all over the car park when we got here," Chloe recalled. "Something big has happened."

"It was a girl," a man from the next table spoke smugly. "Someone said she'd been stabbed."

Beth gave him a withering look. "I don't think that's good news."

"Just saying," he responded huffily. "Second murder in three years, another summer blighted by murder. You expect this in the big cities, but not here. For Broadchurch, that's like rush hour, isn't it? And it's not good for business."

"That first murder was my son, you ignorant-!"

"Beth," Mark cut in soothingly.

"Sorry," the bloke responded. "Didn't know."

"It's not the second murder," another man piped in. He glanced at Beth and the other man for a second.

The room grew hushed.

"They found another girl dead in DI Hardy's garden this morning. I heard them talking on the street outside." He looked at Beth and nodded to Chloe. "If I was you, I'd get your daughter home where it's safe."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	11. Episode 2, Part 3

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Two, Part Three: Imagine the Impossible Is Happening – Again<strong>

Ellie followed the Chief Super into her office. They had to talk soon, and this could not wait. Just as well she was back early from Jury service, not that the Super wasn't qualified enough, but this needed someone who was here. And the Super was out. So Elaine it would have to be. Ellie felt sorry for her, though. She was still adjusting her uniform having only just got changed.

"Shut the door, Ellie."

She did, and promptly launched into it. "Sir, thank you for letting me speak in private."

Chief Super Jenkinson slowly sat down. "How are you handling things?"

"You mean when I've been promoted to lead investigator because some details make it look like my husband had something to do with it? How the hell do you think? Sir," she added on the end, but way of apology.

Jenkinson could have stopped her there, but she decided to wait and let the DS have her say.

Ellie exhaled loudly and began to pace. "Look, I know that you felt it was critical to remove Hardy from the case to protect the investigation from being critised, and I understand that. It's just some of the evidence left behind at the scene."

"First of all, it wasn't me. Secondly, I've had words with the top brass and they're unmoving," she explained. "We'll have to leave it there. To the case; what is it telling you?"

"I know what it seems to be saying."

"Which is?"

Ellie forced herself to stand behind a chair when her legs itched to continue pacing. "I just spent the last hour... trying to picture something I don't want to picture. When I was working late one night on Danny Latimer's murder Alec and I had a slight disagreement about who might be capable of committing the murder. I argued that the Latimers couldn't have, and he said that anyone is capable of anything if pushed far enough. So... to make sure I was doing my job, I tried to imagine that... my second husband... the man who helped me pick up the pieces of my life when Joe shattered everything with an action I will never understand... did it."

Jenkinson nodded and leaned in, folding her hands together. "I know your heart is screaming that he didn't. But we can't have anything go unnoticed this time. What does the evidence say?"

Ellie pursed her lips. "SOCO mentioned that they found pieces of very large seakale leaves on the first victim's body. Those don't grow in my garden. It grows closer to the beach and in small patches along the High Street where decades of kids have traipsed sand and seeds back to the hotel. It only grows in sand."

"So she was likely killed on or near the beach or on the route up to the High Street? Have you sent officers out to check?"

"Yeah. I also ordered a second scouting of the driveway and woods at the front of our house. The girl was a smoker, but there were no cigarette butts on or near the body. Brian found a single footprint and evidence someone tripped. The rest weren't clear enough for a good impression, but enough that he thinks he can tell what shoe size the person wore and maybe how they walk once he examines the photos. SOCO's taken all my shoes for forensics to eliminate me from the inquiry. He also found a bloodstain right by one of the footprints that had to have been left last night. It's small, but there's enough for DNA testing. There's some organic material on the broken gate latch as well. Someone caught their leg on it. We don't use the gate to walk through and we locked it when we got home last night. The lock's been broken. I saw the picture of a disturbed branch, and I'm wondering if whoever left that hurt their ankle. I know Alec didn't scratch himself on his ankles or legs last night."

"How can you be certain?"

Ellie did not dare roll her eyes, but her face turned red. "We bathed together this morning," she replied candidly. "So if he didn't have any scratches that I don't remember giving him, which there weren't, he couldn't have left that blood. And no, I don't have any scratches, either."

Jenkinson suppressed a smile. She couldonly imagine the DI's reaction to hearing that his sex life was being discussed even for a moment, and say nothing of the depth of the detail. If her bosses allowed it, and the CPS for that matter, Ellie was Hardy's cast-iron alibi. "Is there anything else besides thebiometrics and the kale leaf? What's the time frame we're working with?"

"SOCO and the coroner think the body was dumped between 2 and 6am. Time of death was maybe six hours before, according to the blood pool pattern on her buttocks and feet, because her phone was last used around 7pm we're looking at an estimated time of death at or shortly after 7pm. According to the coroner there are crease marks at the groin and knees, suggesting she was folded up in a confined space, maybe the boot of a car. If we can prove that and find the car we'll have the killer. I've looked at the map, noting the beach areas and the possible trails to our place. Once we find the murder scene I'm going to have someone of the same build as Alec walk the path to time it, carrying something that weighs the same as our victim. I doubt the killer carried her that far, but I'm following every straw. I know if he tried that, even his pace-maker would give out. But... even if you factor that you only have my word and Tom's to go by, I don't think he had enough time."

"Why?"

"Some of the beaches where seakale leaves grow to the size of the ones found don't have easy access points that lead to our place. So there's only a few spots where she could have come into contact with it. I may have let SOCO into our home to check his clothes and shoes, but we did have a... late night and I didn't take my sleeping pills. I'm easily woken at night. The twins aren't yet sleeping all the way through and I was up at six. And then there's motive."

"What about it?"

"Well, what motive could he or I have? There's no evidence of sexual assault, and her clothes were intact but dirty, like she'd had been knocked over and dragged. I looked into his eyes after he saw the girl in our garden. He didn't seem to recognise her, and I don't think he was faking it. I've seen him when he's faking emotions. He has some telltale signs when he's lying, and I've learned to pick up on them. He showed none of them. So again, what motive does he have?"

Jenkinson thought for a moment. "Could the girl have some link to Daisy?"

"Daisy's number wasn't on her mobile. Nor were any emails tying them together. Or any number linked even remotely to Daisy. The girl has an active facebook page, but Daisy's not on facebook. So, unless the girls kept in touch via regular letters, or Daisy has connections to Birmingham, there's either no connection or they might not have been each other in years."

"Money?"

"Given the state of her clothes I'm thinking money was as tight for her as it is for us. It was all Primark labels."

"Has he taken time to himself lately?"

"Barely. If he's not on duty he's with us. Maybe he runs an errand for me now and again, but usually Tom and sometimes Fred goes with him."

Jenkinson stood slowly. "Let's assume that you've read him correctly, and he genuinely doesn't remember seeing the girl since perhaps around the time that photo of her and her friend was taken. Or the one of the four girls. Is she in that?"

"The photo makes no sense. Brian still maintains that it was put into her pocket by someone else. She's not in the photo. There's nothing to connect her to it. It doesn't even have her fingerprints on it."

Elaine walked around the desk, deep in thought. "What about the locket? Didn't SOCO say it has initials identical to Daisy's?"

"It's circumstantial at best, but it's the only bit of evidence I haven't figured out, but there could be plenty of other people with those initials. And there are some other inconsistencies."

"Such as?"

"She's a tall girl. I know a man Alec's build could carry her, probably wrapped, with maybe only a little difficulty, but not with his heart. Some of the photos suggest she was dragged at least some distance, like her killer wasn't able to carry her very far. Like the two were closer in size. And then she was folded up, possibly in a car. But why take her all the way from where she was killed to our house? And there are other disturbed areas of dirt that look like someone tried to cover them up. If Alec did that, I would have spotted either muddy shoes or evidence that mud was cleaned. I would have noticed something. And then the shoes Brian found on the front porch, as if someone took them off to go in? We don't use the front door. It sticks with age, so we blocked it off from the inside with a writing desk."

"Okay, are there still SOCO at your place?"

"Yeah, and I gave them permission to look in the house. They just called back. No muddy shoes, no evidence that any mud was cleaned last nightor this morning, and no bandages or other materialswith blood on them."

"All right, I agree that this does sound suspiciously like a plant to make Hardy or you look bad. I'll have a look into your past and Hardy's to see if there's anyone with a grudge. We'll have to keep him off the case for now because of the apparent Sandbrook ties, but if you can prove that there's no way he committed the murder then I can submit to Top topermit him back on the case in a support role. As it is, you need to ask him more questions about that photo. When was it taken, who took it, and how might we locate the other girls so we can ask them questions? And have someone trace the photo of the victim and her friend. We need to know how close they are or were. If it's a coincidence and his daughter hardly knew our victim or the Sandbrook victims then there will be even less reason to suspect him. Also, you should try reaching out to Daisy, see what she knows."

"Alec is half convinced her mother is preventing them from talking."

"Then maybe she'll take a call from a DS she doesn't know."

"We think she isn't even aware that he's remarried."

Jenkinson considered that. "Or perhaps even a Super? Hardy's wife is still on the force, so it would be fitting for her to cooperate with a superior officer."

Ellie grew thoughtful. "Well, it's worth a try. Just be careful using the term 'superior'. I got the distinct impression Tess Hardy resented the delay having a child put on her career. Apparently, she and Alec went for DI at the same time, but he got it on duration of service. Hardy told me it rankled her something chronic to have to call him sir."

"If you do re-establish contact for him, you'll have to deal with the ex."

"I can handle a woman with an attitude for the sake of my husband's relationship with his daughter."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	12. Episode 2, part 4

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Two<strong>**,**** Part Four: Translation Error**

Hardy flicked through the policeman's notebook, jotting things down in his own. Girl's name, Luiz Gotlieb. On holiday with her parents and brothers. Never been to Broadchurch before but have visited England several times. That put a different slant on things. Murder victims tended to know their attacker. He looked at the description of her clothing and found an inconsistency already. White top and jacket, blue skirt with a white flower print over blue leggings. They hadn't found a blue skirt.

He took a look at the photograph the family had taken that morning on the beach and again he felt a feeling of déjà vu. And he didn't know why. And Connelly's warning did not help. It still rang in his ears like a dull bell.

He had checked the family's passports and visas. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Luiz Gotleib, fifteen, student. Mother, Marhildi Gotleib, civil servant; father, Ritter Gotleib, and twin brothers Klaus and Deiter, aged thirteen. He passed the notebook back to the constable standing by the hotel room door and stepped further into the room. SOCO was still next door. He wished there had been somewhere else to interview the family rather than simply moving them into the next room.

He sat down carefully, psyching himself up for this terrible task. This was never easy. And it never got easier. But to have to give the family news like this took its toll on officers. Every victim took a piece of you. After while you wished you could walk away, but Hardy wouldn't. He wanted to, but he wouldn't. He'd signed up for this, to stop killers before they struck again. If there was a magic wand that could stop them before they'd started, he'd get one.

Instead there was the reality of the here and now. And another dead girl. And the job of telling the family had fallen to uniformed officers. He didn't envy their job. The two boys just sat on the other bed in numbed silence.

The man in front of him had an arm around his wife's shoulders. She already had red-rimmed eyes. And he wasn't too far behind her. He wasn't very good at German, never had been good at it at school. He had passed French and could almost make a conversation in Gaelic. If this family didn't speak much English he was in trouble.

"Mr and Mrs. Gotleib, I'm very sorry for your loss," he began gently. "And I know you would rather not think about what happened, but I must ask you a few questions. Can you understand me all right? Would you like an interpreter?"

"It is fine," the man spoke, his richly accented words almost tripping over themselves to get out. "We come often and I come as a student here when I was in university. I never see this coming. The people here are so nice." He shrugged and sniffed. "Why does someone want to hurt my daughter?"

"We don't know, but we will find out and we will catch the person who did this," Hardy promised. "I need to know where you were when you last saw Luiz. Was she scared of something or someone? Did she see anyone she knew?"

"We were on the road, coming back from the beach," Ritter told him. "We stopped for fish and chips. Good English food, ya? We like fish and chips. Luiz need to go to the bathroom and the hotel was there, not far away, and she come here. We wait for her and she did not come back."

"From where you were, did you see anything happening in the hotel car park, or along the road? Anyone hanging around?"

"We see lots of people," Marhildi spoke, her voice unsteady and barely understandable. She shook through a silent sob and dabbed at both cheeks. "It is a nice day. Everyone is out in the sunshine. We wait for Luiz. I hold her food and it is cold in my hand when we begin to come back to look for her. We think she is lost. And then we see policeman on the hotel steps and we are not allowed in. So I think Luiz is safe inside and we wait. And we wait more. And she does not come out."

"We did not know someone has died for some time," Ritter continued. "The policeman outside said a young girl was found and I said to him that my daughter was here. I ask him if he has seen her and he told me to stand back. I am looking for my daughter, I need to find her. And then the man comes in white and I ask him about Luiz. And we come here. Luiz did not die of scared - uhm. What is it, how do you say it?"

"Scared to death?" Hardy offered.

"Yes, Scared to death. She did not die of scared to death?"

"I'm afraid not," Hardy replied. "At this point it's hard to say exactly how she died, but there are people who are working to find out. She was barely alive when she was found," he revealed. "The paramedics did all they could to save her."

Ritter nodded briskly. He sobbed openly, but manfully pushed it down. "We are German. We are not having this English stiff top lip. We cry," he shrugged apologetically.

"I don't think the English stiff upper lip exists, Mr Gotleib," Hardy replied. "Sometimes I wish it did. We'll find you another place to stay. The hotel will have to be closed. We will need to ask you more questions as time progresses. But if you remember anything, even the smallest detail, let me of any of the other police officers know."

Ritter and Marhildi thanked him.

Hardy closed his notebook and stuffed it back into his jacket pocket and got to his feet. He made his way to the open doorway and saw Brian exit the room next door.

"Anything," he said out of earshot. "The family are in the next room so be careful what you say."

"We got for more from here than we did with the first one," Brian spoke, lowering his voice to a whisper. "She fought like hell. Definitely not consentwith a sex game." He frowned. "Something troubling you?"

"Just an instinct," Hardy replied. "Something tells me the two cases are linked. Maybe not the killer, and that's a dreadful thought, but something connects the two. And I am convinced I've seen the second girl before. But I just can't place her." Suddenly he had an idea. "Wait there."

Hardy returned to the room. "Mr. Gotleib, may I ask, in any of your visits to England have you even been to Sandbrook near Croydon?"

Ritter thought about it for a moment and firmly shook his head. "Nein. We go to London, Cardiff and Edin Burg for to see the castles. We see the Christmas Lights in Blackpool. We go to the Isle of Wight and Brighton and now to Weymouth for to see the beaches. There are no beaches in Hamburg. We have not come to Sandbrook."

Hardy reined in a sigh. "Ok, Thank you." He returned to the corridor.

"Anything?"

"No," Hardy admitted. "But it's still there, that nagging feeling."

"I'd say you were mistaken. It happens. Everyone has seen someone they thought they knew, or seen someone they recognise from a distance, but on a closer look it's not them at all."

Hardy stared at him.

"What?" Brian said.

"Oh god," Hardy said slowly and quietly. "What if someone else had that same thought? What if this girl wasn't the intended victim?"

"That's a bit farfetched."

"I have a keen eye for faces," Hardy justified. "Just can't always put a name to them. But why kill a complete stranger? Why go to all that trouble? It makes no sense. But if the killer was expecting her or someone similar to be here – then you have motive."

"A good way to show me why I picked SOCO," Brian noted. "I lack your imagination. I need facts and clues. Hunches don't interest me."

"Yeah, you're right. I should stick to what I know." Hardy rolled his shoulders and looked at his watch. "Meet you back at the station. I need another look at the scene before it gets too dark to see."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	13. Episode 2, Part 5

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (on LiveJournal only, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

/=/=/=/=/

* * *

><p>Beth lowered the plates into the sink and watched the sudsy water cover them. The simplest pleasures, these days. Who would have guessed that something so trivial as washing up would mean so much to you when the bigger pieces of your life were missing.<p>

She heard the front door open and looked up. "Chloe?" she called out. She grabbed a towel and went to the front door.

Chloe looked at her, holding the door in one hand, and other in her pocket, already feeling defensive.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Out."

"Where?"

"Along the Esplanade to meet a friend."

"Who? Names, phone numbers. When are you going to be home?"

"Mum! I'm not telling you every detail of my life," Chloe told her. "That's oppressive!"

"Then you're not going out," Beth told her.

"Why not?" Chloe demanded.

"Because there's a killer out there," Beth replied. "Who know who it is? You could be next."

"You're overreacting, Mum!" Chloe responded. "That idiot at the hotel was just trying to scare people."

"Overreacting?" Beth countered. "There are two dead girls out there. I am not going through that again!"

Chloe leaned closer to the door and called to someone outside. "Dean? Come here."

Dean appeared, looking confused. "Yeah?"

"Tell my mum where we're going. She won't let me out otherwise."

"The Esplanade," Dean replied. "There's a whole group of us going down the arcade."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Absolutely not," she argued. "How do I know you're not the murderer?"

"Beth," Mark approached from the living room, a youngtoddler on his hip. "You can't point fingers. Remember what happened to Jack Marshall, eh?" he reasoned gently. He looked at Dean, man to man. "You keep Chloe by your side like glue, do you understand me? Coz of anything happens to her your life won't be worth living."

"Yes, Mr. Latimer," Dean replied.

"Oh and that's not, like, a threat enough?" Chloe accused.

"It's all right, Chloe, your mum and dad's right. Everyone's on edge. Everyone's talking about it and everyone's sticking together. No one's going out on their own. Even Old Grebes wouldn't let his sister out to fetch the milk from the doorstep this morning." He looked around him at the deserted street. "I've heard rumours saying that the first girl was found in DI Hardy's front garden. People think he did it."

"That's just stupid," Mark said.

"What if Ellie did it?" Beth put in.

"That's even more stupid-"

"Is it?" Beth wondered. "She hid the killer last time."

Mark watched her wander back towards the kitchen. He turned back and nodded Chloe out the door. "Go on," he said gently. "And be back before dark. That's all I ask."

"Thanks, Dad," Chloe said and skipped out to join her boyfriend.

Mark closed the front door behind her, keeping his hand on the frame for several seconds. He was terrified that it would be the last time he saw her. He took a deep slow breath and returned to the living room. As he had guessed, Beth was standing there, fiddling with the fingers of one hand. She was shaking.

"How do we move one?" she asked.

"We find a way," he told her. "There's no handbook for this. You just have to go with the flow and hope that it lets you take a breath once in a while." He nearly said more but closed his mouth and shrugged. "But we can't hold Chloe back. She has to grow up and do what she wants in life. Because if we stop her, we'll be holding her to ransom for Danny's death."

Beth looked up at him. "I don't blame her."

"I know you don't. And she knows it too, but we can't have her inside all the time, living like she's a prisoner, coz that's not fair. We have to move on, put it behind us, for Christopher's sake as much as ours."

Beth looked at her seventeen month-old son and reached out for him. She cuddled him against her shoulder and quietly sank into tears. "I don't know how to move on," she sobbed. "Everything I do is like repeating everything I did before, and each day just gets harder and harder. And I feel like it's impending, like it'll happen again and take Christopher like it did Danny. Or Chloe's going to go out one day and not come back."

Mark drew her into a hug, and kissed her hair. Smoothing a hand across her shoulders he drew back enough to dry her tears with a thumb, while sniffing back his own. "I feel it too, but if we give in, Joe has won. And give Ellie a little credit, eh? Joe fooled everyone. Her most of all."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to believe that," Beth admitted.

"Give her a chance to explain."

"She's got nothing to say that I want to hear."

"Beth," Mark coaxed softly. "She needs that closure as much as we do."

Beth slowly shook her head. "I can't. I just... I'm not ready."

/=/=/=/=/

Across town in a small bed and breakfast, Bruce stalked across the bedroom, pacing agitatedly. He was sweating and trembling and absently rubbing the back of his neck. He frowned and rubbed it a little harder.

"You all right, love?" Tess asked as she stepped into the room from the hallway.

"Yeah, just a bit of sunburn," he grumbled.

"Still pacing? You wear a hole in the carpet."

"Where's Daisy?"

"I've sent her to bed early. It's her Crohn's playing up."

"She better not ruin our holiday."

"Oh Bruce, stop it!" Tess snapped quietly, mindful of the four year-old watching television in the far corner of the room. "She's not doing it on purpose. She's had it for years."

"If you ask me, she could eat a lot less," he grumbled. "Blown up like a balloon, she has."

"She's on medication because of her heart, Bruce. Give her a break."

"She's a walking medical encyclopaedia, and you don't help, fussing over her all the time. You'll turn her into a hypochondriac."

"Need I remind you that this holiday was her idea?" Tess prompted. "She knows we're both stressed with work and she was right to suggest it. She's not doing too well herself so let's just enjoy ourselves and forget everything, just for a few days. Eh?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "You been seeing that ex of yours behind my back?"

"Of course not!"

He leaned closer. "If I find out otherwise, I will make you sorry you ever cheated on me the first time."

"That's ridiculous!" she hissed back. "I was cheating on _him_! Not you!"

"And DS Salt. Or have you forgotten?"

Tess blanched. "Of course I haven't! I almost lost my job because of that."

"You'll lose a lot more if you cross me again!" he warned. "You're hiding something. I can see it in your eyes. They asked me to verify your alibi. I did, but I know you weren't in bed. And you didn't tell them you were a copper. Do you wanna know what I think? I think you were with him. There's dead girls all over the town and you're spending more time with your ex and his daughter than with me and my son!"

And with that, he marched from the room and banged the door behind him.

/=/=/=/=/

Ellie gazed up at Hardy, breathless as he growled a grand finale on their bedroom floor.

"I think this is where we came in," she grinned.

He panted, half smirking at the thought. "Well, I came in. I don't know about you. I think you were faking it."

"Cheeky bugger," she giggled.

He carefully rose to his knees and let her get up. "It wouldn't have been so bad if you'd screwed the bed together a bit tighter. It squeaks more than you do."

Ellie drowned a laugh. "Sh-sh-sh, you'll make me wake the kids."

He grinned at her as he joined her on the bed, covering her body with his. "You don't need my help with that, Squeaky."

"Don't call me that," she giggled helplessly.

"I can't call the bed Squeaky," he reasoned. He shifted to the side a couple of times and made the bed jiggle against the wall. "See. You did get it up properly."

"That'smy line," she griped.

"You can't use that line on me. I have kids to prove it."

"Yeah, and I've just gone back to work. You get me pregnant again and we'll be homeless."

He joined them, much to her surprise and he smiled down at her. "I am confident that the vasectomy has worked, Mrs. Hardy," he told her in a near serious voice.

"I bet you've said that before."

"Ah, but this time, it's a second vasectomy and there's no way it can heal itself. I had the surgeon make sure."

"What, did you bribe him to castrate you at the same time?" she tossed back, giggling as he made her sift with the bed.

He spluttered at her. "Oh I'll have to get you back for that!"

Ellie laughed loudly and covered her mouth. They held their breaths, listening for the tell-tale sounds of little feet or cries. But the house remained silent. Until he moved. The bed squeaked again.

"I have a day off coming up. When it comes, I am fixing this bed," he determined.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	14. Episode 2, Part 6

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Two, Part Six: Late Night Questions<strong>

"Night, Miller," Frank yawned, who tugged his jacket on as he spoke.

"Night," she answered instinctively, not taking her eyes off the photos before her.

As a matter of procedure, photos of murder victims and the associated filescould be seen by other investigators so if they happened to have information they could share. Most of the time, the files were locked away and only scenes were on, but switched off if someone outside the team came into the Chief Super Jenkinson was willing to let Ellie see whatever she needed, and she had requested the Sandbrook files.

Ellie looked at the German girl, the confirmed tourist. She then held up the photo of the four girls. She frowned harder.

Despite the passage of time, there were undeniable similarities between the fourth girl in the photo from the first scene and this victim. Same hair color, facial structure was close even accounting for a girl growing out of childhood plumpness, and the eyes were close.

Were they the same girl? Or could this be a case of mistaken identity? Maybe a good facial recognition scan could tell. Or better light in the morning.

She dropped the photos and rubbed her eyes. A quick glance at the clock made her straighten. It was 7pm already?!

Groaning, she looked over at the DI's office. Hardy was pulling his own late night, looking at notes and documents of his own. The second murder, just as she was, but he was reviewing interview transcripts. She thought for a moment. This was as good a time as any.

But first she would slip out quickly. There was one thing she had to do before it got any later. Might make her necessary task go easier.

A moment later Hardy was startled by a knock. He looked up, and saw his wife standing with a bag in her hands. He snorted. "Tell me there's something in there that's not fried. Just because I had the operation, it hasn't changed my diet."

"I know you can have a chippy every so often, but it's sandwiches this time."

He began carefully placing things in piles to make room. "I called Tom earlier. Your sister is babysitting and your nephew went over to help with dinner."

Ellie smiled as she put down the bag and opened it. "See, Olly has his uses."

"As long as he learned his lesson from last time."

"Trust me, I think the experience with that reporter made him want to prove his worth." She handed him his sandwich. "Did you know he's working on a book about Sandbrook?"

He groaned. "Why?"

"Maggie said he was thinking about how the press could be used for and against the public interest during any investigation. He wanted to figure out ways to keep the public informed without harming the chance of a conviction or seeing an innocent person gaslit."

"He wants to prevent another case like Jack Marshall. Does he feel guilty?"

"I think a bit." Ellie sat down with her own sandwich. "It's his effort to make it up to Jack's memory, he said. And I think he also wants to repair your reputation."

Hardy paused just before he could take a bite and gave her a dark look. "It's taken another hit from this."

As they started eating, each thought about what they wanted to say.

He broke the silence first once he had chewed enough. "Your you think I did it?"

Ellie had to smile. "Taking the direct approach as always. Well, as far as I know you have an alibi. Unless you think I did it."

"I know I told you anyone is capable, but there are exceptions. You're not capable of killing a childin any way."

"Then either neither of us did it, or we both did it and have almost everyone fooled already."

He had to smile. She was right, she was effectively his alibi. Although the timing was still up in the air until they found the murder scene and had the autopsy results.

After a few more bites Ellie felt ready to ask what she came in to learn. "You looked like you were seeing a ghost when you saw that group photo. You really don't remember that day?"

He slowly put down his sandwich. "The truth?"

She nodded.

He reached for his wallet and tugged out a small photo that had been tucked behind a school photo of Daisy. He held it out to her.

Ellie stilled. "It's the same photo."

"It was one of the few photos of Daisy I was able to get before I had to leave. I'd nearly forgotten about this day."

"What happened?"

"Daisy had a birthday party at the holiday park at Durdle Door. Her eighth birthday. Three of her best friends were there. I'd forgotten that Pippa Gilespie was someone she knew. They all went to different schools after that, moved to different areas by... a year later, I think. One was a German girl whose father remarried and moved them back to Germany. I think her name was Louise. The other girl... I want to say she was called Helen, but I don't trust my memory. I've been trying to remember all day. It might be a lead."

Every instinct was screaming to Ellie that he was telling the truth. "And the photo? It looks like a photo booth picture."

Hardy snorted, a tiny smile of remembrance. "No, that was actually the shower cubicle in our caravan. The girls squeezed into it just for a laugh. Tess took that photo and had miniatures made for each of them. This one's the original."

"Did they ever meet up after that? Keep in touch?"

"They liked writing letters. In fact, when I gave Daisy a mobile phone, she was disappointed. 'Why can't you just write to me?' she asked. 'Phones can be tapped or stolen'. I thought all teenagers wanted a phone."

Ellie paused in her chewing, a startled reaction. She quickly managed a swallow. "She didn't trust phones?"

"She'd heard of the Milly Dowler case. Who hadn't? I told her that I wasn't sure her mum would allow my letters through, so I wanted something that I could reach her with."

"Have you ever got through to her?"

"Once or twice at first. Then... either I had the worst timing or..."

"Or Tess found the phone and confiscated it?" Ellie finished. "Is that what you're saying? Even though she resented the delay to her career?"

Hardy slumped in his chair. "She was glad to play the role of devoted mother because she knew it would hurt me."

"So why did she have another child if she knew it'd be another hit on her career?"

He shook his head and shrugged. "I wish I knew. The hardest part of leaving was that Daisy was convinced that I was her brother's father. I don't know how she took the news of the DNA test, or even if Tess ever told her. I wish I could have comforted her."

Ellie decided to chance a random question. "Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you had let her find out about the affair? Might she have insisted on staying with you?"

He thought about it for a moment and folded his arms. "She was so attached to her brother. She always wanted a sibling. I... couldn't take her from him."

"Who's the father on record for the boy?"

"Tess put me down and I stupidly signed it. I don't know if she's gone and had it corrected."

Ellie thought a moment. She had another question to ask in light of this. "Alec, if the only way to get custody of Daisy was to also take the boy in... What's his name?"

He paused to think. "Ben."

"If you'd had the chance to gain custody if you also took Ben, since you were the father on record, even though I don't know how custody works, would you have gone for it just to keep your daughter with you?"

Hardy looked surprised. "I..."

Ellie took advantage of the hesitation. "You took in my boys and you had no ties to them."

"Yes, I did. You."

"Well, you have a deeper tie to Ben: Daisy. Wouldn't you be a better parent for him than a mother who won't let her daughter have contact with her father?"

"Would you have accepted me if I'd come with them?"

"Yes."

"Money would have been even tighter."

"I think if she'd been here we might not have fought and broken up."

That left him silent.

Ellie finished another bite. "Poor Becca, first finding a victim practically in her car park and then learning she was kidnapped in her place of business. How's she taking it?"

He flashed her a hint of a grateful smile for the subject change. He needed to get off a topic that only left his heart feeling like it would try to overpower the pacemaker. "She's terrified that she'll be closed down. Someone already threatened to sue her."

"Having SOCO going all over the place isn't good for business."

"I suspect if it weren't for my expressly saying that no one was to leave Broadchurch in case they were needed as witnesses, every last guest would have tried to go home. As it is, they've all had to be moved to other guesthouses or bed and breakfast accommodation until SOCO have finished. I'm still concerned that a fair few will leave and never come back."

Ellie sighed. "Both the Super and the Chief Super were afraid of this. I'm worried about how the town will react when word does get out that there's a second body."

"I think it's already out."

"Why do you say that?"

"Brian was looking extra grim today at the hotel. Someone local has to have read their faces enough to know that something close happened recently. And he overheard someone in the bar tell Beth that this was the second body in the same day."

Ellie sighed. "Well, get ready for the press to come pounding on our collective door."

They shared a dark look. It was likely to get much worse than Danny's had. And if the town had nearly fallen apart because one of their own had been taken, what would the reaction be with two dead teenage tourists?

The word coming to both their minds was pandemonium.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	15. Episode 2, Part 7

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Two, Part Seven: Slog It Out<strong>

Two days, two murders and nothing was going well. Stalled was the perfect word and it encompassed everything. The town seemed to have gone into a stupor. Life had taken a backburner over death.

Hardy slapped the file onto the desk and leaned on his hands on the edge of the desk. Not that he needed the actual paperwork; he could have accessed it all on the computer, but old habits took the longest to get over. Every parent's worst nightmare was to find out their child had died. It didn't really matter how, but he supposed it helped if they hadn't suffered. Maybe if they had been ill with something and had died it gave them at least time to say their goodbyes and prepare themselves? He didn't know. He'd never been in that situation. But he had to assume it was probably worse if your child had been taken away by another person and killed for reasons unknown.

Parents needed answers. He didn't have any. He had a hunch. That was it. You couldn't take a case to court on a hunch. He'd be laughed out the door. And his professional career didn't need any more knocks than it had already taken. Except that he had no control over this any more than he had had over the Sandbrook case.

The Golden 48. Forty-eight hours from crime to arrest. That's what every copper aimed for. In murder and rape cases those two days held the best chance of catching the person responsible. Except that his case had gone no further than finding the victim's name. From the taut face of his wife, he had to assume she was getting on just as fast with her case.

He had heard snippets. Her case had stalled. No evidence, not even a fingerprint. Like the killer was testing her. Or perhaps him? He had no idea why, but it was the only conclusion he could draw. And since he was not a party to that case he had to guess. He hated guesses even more than stalled cases.

He glanced at the clock on the wall through the glass front of his office. Ten passed six. He sighed. No point lingering any further. He needed a break and he knew Ellie needed sleep. He placed the case file in his drawer and locked it, lifted and donned the jacket from the back of his chair and stepped out of his office.

"Ellie? Time to go."

"Oh, but I know I crack this! It's here, the clues. Somewhere. Just five more minutes!" she retorted in tight tones.

"You need a break and so do I," he replied. "It'll still be here in the morning."

"That's the problem. It shouldn't have been here _this_ morning!"

"Miller!" Hardy barked a little more forthrightly. "Go home."

Ellie stared at him for a moment and then turned her head towards the wall clock. He was right. They had both worked passed office hours. She got up, shoved everything into the folder and dropped it into her drawer. Locking it securely, she shouldered her bag and followed him out. She didn't say anything, but she was seething.

Her case had nothing to go on. It made no sense at all. No fibres, no fingerprints, no clues that could be connected to the body and footprints that made no sense. It was like someone was toying with the police. Someone how knew their game better than she did. But who?

And that wasn't the strangest thing. She had a hunch that her case was connected to Hardy's. He hadn't said anything, but she knew he had to have thought it. SOCO had said nothing. Of course he wouldn't. He was tight as a duck's arse, was Brian. But there was a definite link with Sandbrook. Unless the picture was a plant. Which meant there was still a link with Sandbrook.

She wondered if someone had a vindictive sense of humour, testing the police to see if they could work it out. Because there was no other motive she could think of that matched the evidence – or lack of said. And Ellie really didn't want to think about the repercussions of one of their own colleagues killing a tourist just to test CID's mettle.

She could still see the faces of Sarah's family when she had spoken to them two evenings before. About the same time hell had erupted at the hotel. In their shoes she would probably have panicked as well. As it was, now the whole town and its tourists thought there was a serial killer on the loose. Two girls in twenty-four hours didn't look good on any level.

But there was one vital and startling difference. Sarah's killer had done everything to make sure she was dead. Stabbed, strangled, beaten, but not sexually assaulted. Vastly different end to the girl in the car park, from what she had heard. Died of internal injuries following a sex act. Poor girl bled to death. Even with lids on, Broadchurch CID had had to have one team doing both cases. They didn't have the manpower to have two separate teams. And while she was leading one and her husband leading the other, details were often accidentally swapped.

At least she had been on the ball. Attention to detail. Her husband would have been proud. If she could actually talk to him about it. As it was, she was on her own. And Desai was only just starting her maternity leave, so there was little help there for Hardy. Given that circumstance, she was little better than the new detective that had joined three days before.

"Life sucks!" she grumbled.

She pulled the car door shut behind her, wrenching it from Hardy's hands where he stood holding it open for her.

He said nothing, rounded the car and got in. "So, you're doing better than I am, then," he noted, giving his voice a little levity that he had scraped in for the occasion.

It didn't work.

An argument ensued, one which neither of them could even begin to explain the reasoning behind or who had started it. By the time they returned home, they were yelling at each other. They barely even noticed the smell of dinner wafting through from the kitchen, or Lucy sitting on the sofa, or the children silenced by their patents' rowdy arrival.

The strain was getting too much. They worked well as a team, but working separately took its toll on both of them.

"It wouldn't be so bad if you would at least trust me on this!" he shouted.

"It's not about trust!" Ellie threw back at him. "It's about orders from above. Why are you being like this?"

"I don't like secrets. We could have solved both cases by now if we just worked together."

"You don't have proof!"

"Well, thank you for pointing that out!" he yelled at her. "Anything else you'd like to tell me about my case? Why is the photograph so important, eh? What are you keeping from me?"

Ellie refused to answer.

"You know as well as I do that the photograph is the key to both deaths. If you would just trust me on this, Ellie!" he told her loudly. "You know I'm right. You know these two cases are one. It might not be the same killer, or the same motive or the same act, but you _know_ the clues are in the other file. We're holding each other's Aces!"

"You're making a mountain out of a molehill," she accused him. "It's not the case, at all. It's that I'm heading it. It's all got to be about you. And you can't stand to be sidelined!" she accused him. "You're only angry because you have a shattered reputation to piece together."

"Oh yes! Bring that up!" he offered crossly. "Any other fuel to add to the fire?! How about you, with your past? Not exactly a white lily, are you? You spent the whole of Danny's case leaning on my expertise!"

Ellie blanched but saw red. "If you're going to be like that you can leave now!"

"Maybe I should! But if I leave I take the twins with me!" he threatened.

Tom got up from the floor where he had been playing with his youngest siblings. He had seen his parents argue before. Usually it was teasing and humorous insults. But he knew this was not their usual bickering. It frightened him more than any of the discord he had noticed before Danny's death between his mum and his real dad. There was more to lose this time. He would lose more than his dad and best friend. He would lose his littlest brother and sister as well. And he had seen the state his mum has been in when Hardy had left her last time.

He had to do something.

"Stop it!"

Hardy and Ellie turned to look at Tom, startled and instantly silent.

Tom was in tears and distraught. "You're not leaving again! I won't let you!"

**ĐĐ**

**End Of Episode**


	16. Episode 3, Part 1

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tardis:<strong> Count the adverts. It all started with me writing Life Without Joe (blowing my own trumpet). The title does not say why Joe was not there, whether he had died or walked out. It was just that he was no long there. No clue, no hint, no spoiler, no Joe. And just in case anyone else caught on before I did – episode four – that it was Joe I had to watch from a play back site because I was first burying my mum and then moving, so I actually missed episodes 2-7 until just days before the finale. My deepest thanks to bas_math_girl who saved me from being "spoilered". And, sorry, tkel, but it was not the BBC. It was ITV that made and broadcast the original. The BBC can only wish.

I got this idea after watching the original for the however-many time it was. I'd gone out to HMV to find a copy of The Politician's Wife and on the off-chance asked them if they had a copy of Broadchruch. As it happened the delivery had just arrived. I had the first copy out of the box at HMV Cardiff. There. Selfless advertising. And the Beeb still loses out. So I sat and watched it and thought I wonder what happens next? I've lived in hotels. I've been in a similar situation as Tom (and Ellie, actually, but that's neither here nor there), and I know there had to be more. Life would not have been cosy for Ellie.

So I wrote it.

LWJ was the result. And my readers liked it. Tkel refused to read it. And I fully understand and support her reasons.

However, within days of finishing and posting it I got another idea. I sat on it for months while tkel waited for the DVD, and by that time the plot bunny had stewed itself into a balrog (another plug, this one's LOTR). Tkel was busy. I was in Preston for the long awaited arrival of my first 'born in Britain'; grandchild. I have been busy looking after him and my daughter and fighting for justice for my son-in-law that the Balrog sat forgotten in a dark room on my data pen for a year. Date of starting: September 22 2013. I had a brief outline and a few notes. I basically picked at it for a year until both tkel and I were ready to put in the time and effort.

November 1 2014. One month turned into three weeks, and over 285400 words later we had a first draft. Chris Chibnall may own the copyrights and I bet his sequel is brilliant, **LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILERED! **but he doesn't have a murder. Read it and weep, Chris, my friend. Mine does. *Taggart voice* There's been a murder!

This has been a phenomenal achievement for both of us. Neither of us has done anything like this before. Working with a co-writer is not recommended for everyone. It takes a lot of patience, stamina – I had to sprint to keep up – and a strong willingness to share. I hate sharing. :D

This is going to hurt. Have tissues at the ready. I don't pull punches. Those who know my work know I have plot twists and unexpected clues, and if you miss them you'll be left behind. Make notes. You'll need them.

This is based on Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch, and a few details from the novelisation by Erin Kelly (another shameless advert), with the addition of some aspects of LWJ. If you haven't seen Broadchurch, why are you reading this first? Go away and do so, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you haven't read the novel, don't worry. I have, and you can take or leave it. It has some minor flaws and mistakes, but it is a good read. You'll find my review on Goodreads (another shameless advert) website.

Tkel and I half thought about including our own map, since the blatant error in Erin's was the mistake you'd expect from a small child. Beth's and Ellie's houses are across a field and they can see each other's kitchens; it was mentioned in the original and in the book. So I'm scratching my head trying to work out why Erin's map put them practically back to back, separated by a row of houses.

But, anyway, advertisements aside (Did you count them? There are seven.), I hope you like Sins Of The Father. We've kept it in the same style as the original eight episode format, but each one will have a different number of chapters. Hopefully, they will all be posted by the time ITV airs the sequel. Though try not to compare. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tkel:<strong> Being an American with not a lot of time on her hands to learn the tricks for getting things early from the other side of the pond, I had to wait to see Broadchurch. So I had months of reading about how good it was and how amazing David Tennant's performance was. It was more than a bit frustrating, but I give the people on my friends list credit for not spoiling anything other than Hardy's having a medical condition and one other detail. During the wait I noticed my friend Moley post a Broadchurch fanfic. Well, I did not read it. I even made a point of trying to forget I even saw one was posted. Finally the series came to BBC America, although I did not know that about two hours worth of material was cut to make room for the commercials. I was pissed off when I heard that, and promptly decided that where productions with Tennant were concerned, I would buy Region 2 only. (I had learned that computers can be manipulated to act like an all regions playing DVD player, although as of when I wrote the original note I had not yet figured it out. Trust me, I will learn soon enough.)

I was in awe from the first episode. A great cast, a heartbreaking case, and I was trying to figure out who did it almost immediately. Some I figured were unlikely, or would not be the killer without more plot twists. By the end of Episode Seven, I had a sinking suspicion who the killer was. It did not help that my memory chose then to recall what it thought was the title of Moley's fic. But I waited until the final moments had aired, and was in a bit of emotional turmoil. (Which I think we were supposed to be.) At that point, I got on Live Journal and read all five posts of Moley's fic, pausing only to comment. I needed more time to digest it fully, but I had reread it about four times by the next evening.

The thing is, my muse is the type to get ideas at the drop of a hat sometimes. Sometimes no hat, as Moley has reminded me. (giggles) Often when I am trying to work on other things. Bonzina (what I call my Muse) instantly thought about what might happen afterward, thinking about the unresolved things still there from the original story. She had thought of a plot bunny that had me intrigued. So I emailed Moley with the idea, having no idea that it would prove to be the platform for an idea that had been languishing since Life Without Joe was finished, and we bounced it back and forth – like you do when you beta read each other's work. I don't think we'd emailed about it for more than a day before it transformed into a plot balrog. (For those of you who aren't Tolkien fans, that's a giant creature of shadow and flame, "a demon from the ancient world" to quote Gandalf from the movie version of "Fellowship". Practically impossible to get rid of, as the movie showed.) Basically, it wasn't going to leave either of us alone by then, so we agreed to work on it together as soon as we could both make the time for it. Meanwhile we bounced more ideas back and forth until we had our first outline ready.

Well, although we did a lot of preplanning, we didn't get to writing until I mentioned I was thinking about what to do for NaNoWriMo 2014. Moley noted about Broadchurch 2 being filmed, and we agreed that we should get our balrog finished and fully posted before the first episode airs on ITV. And I was also working on another mystery story at the same time. Only thing is, on that story I had trouble with the outline, and stalled on it in a big way learning why my writer friends gave me the advice they did the hard way as my muse was insistent on trying something different. So I got way ahead on my parts of the story, but I used it to figure out enough so I could resume writing the other story. Even though it may never see the light of day, depending on what I think of it in the end.

Of course, I was very busy. Moved to a new city, started a new job that now means I have a profession, and had to focus on settling in. But I had managed enough that I could do NaNo once again. Although I'm still stalled on that one other story, I know one of the things I need to do with it. I also wrote a few other things, including a Christmas present for another friend – on a dare from said friend. So my grand NaNoWriMo total for 2014? 124,977. Yes. That's correct. And yet someone else managed just over 150,000. You'd better believe I intend to beat that next year.

So that's my side of the story. There will be another Broadchurch collaboration, based off an idea I had from working on this story. Stay tuned about that one. Or maybe... more than one, given that Moley and I seem to be off in slightly different directions for that one. (grins) This was a fun project, and I hope that Moley and I find additional ones to work on together. Not counting the beta reading we already do, or the times when I was utterly stuck on a story and needed more than prodding but wholesale suggestions to get it moving again. (bigger grin)

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><p><em>Summertime. Outdoors. Four girls played together in a garden, giggling as small children do. No cares of the world touched them, or if they did they pretended they did not exist.<em>

_There was an undercurrent of sadness. They all knew they would part ways, but no one knew just when they would see each other again. But it was the birthday of one of them, and so they could forget about most troubles for the time being._

/=/=/=/

_Another summer. The air was pleasant, but there was a hint of tension. Mostly in the adults watching._

_Three slightly older girls sat on a beech making a sandcastle. They shaped it in honour of the fourth who did not come, looking up at each sometimes in wonder of why they had not heard from their friend._

/=/=/=/

_Two young teenage girls walking together in a busy street, shopping. They tried to laugh, but the __aura__ around them was oppressive. Especially on the taller one. A great weight was hanging on her shoulders, __but__ the haunted look had purchase in the shorter one._

/=/=/=/=/

_Darkness surrounded the area. The moon's light barely shone through the clouds._

_A girl stepped into the light of an open window.__ She kept low, trying to be invisible. She glanced up at the moon, her face that of the shorter of the teenagers. But her formerly honey-blonde hair had been dyed black. Her face was pale even for the light out, and her whole being spoke of knowing a terror unspeakable._

_She looked and listened, closing the __window__ before she repeated the listening. Then she fled into the shadows, as quietly as she __could__._

/=/=/=/

_Under the same moonlight and yet slightly different clouds angled overhead a sixteen __year-old girl__ stood alone, partly in shadow, leaning against a brick-built bus shelter with the sound of the ocean not far away. It was the taller of the girls. Her long hair fell in waves about her shoulders and at her throat hung a locket that rested against her t-shirt. It was old, as old as she felt. She bore herself as one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, silhouetted against the light of an opening door behind her._

_In the distance the echoing cry of a newborn child broke the silence of the night._

/=/=/=/=/

**Previously...**

**Episode Three. Chapter One: Everything Comes In Threes.**

He watched in silent horror as a familiar face arrived at the bed and breakfast. He thought he'd got rid of her. But there she was, alive. What the hell was he supposed to do now? His position was getting more tenuous by the hour. He had to get rid of her. There was no other solution. He was too close to getting away with it. But he had to be careful. Too many potential witnesses.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dusk, welcome to Broachurch B&B," she owner said across the reception desk. "I'm sure your room will be comfortable until the hotel is open again. But if there are any problems, do not hesitate to talk to myself or my husband."

Quaint little place. Olde Worlde charm. He liked it. Out of the way. But a little too out of the way to get things done and slip away unnoticed.

"Thanks," Mr. Dusk replied. "What happened down there?"

"I couldn't say," the owner replied. "A burst pipe, I believe."

He smirked. She was good. Obviously no one had mentioned his handiwork. That was good to know.

"Louise, why don't you go off and explore? You should be meeting Daisy soon," Mrs. Dusk spoke. "Your dad and I will unpack and meet you at the beach in about an hour?"

"Ok, thanks, Mum," the girl replied.

He watched her go from his niche on the stairs. He glanced at his watch. 6pm. He was meant to be going for a jog before dinner – good for the heart. And this small town gave an excellent opportunity to do just that. He stepped out of his observation place near the stairs and waved to the woman behind the desk, not that she noticed, she was busy with the Dusks. He jogged out the door into the evening sun.

Seconds later he had secreted the girl in the rhodedrendrons. As quiet as a mouse as he reminded her why she should not have come to Broadchurch. His hand on her throat made sure she didn't scream. She didn't even panic, though she breathed heavily; perhaps she was enjoying this as much as he was. She seemed not to realise that these was her last minutes. Like it was a nightmare she would wake up from.

But she wouldn't.

He was a little more careful this time. Last time had been somewhat messy. And by the time he was finished, she had already slipped from life. He carefully covered her body with leaves and made his way up to the footpath that wound its way up through the woods behind the B&B and down to Finch Lane. He brushed himself off carefully and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

Then he began to jog. He took an extra half an hour this time. Not that anyone seemed to notice. He took a quick shower and made it back in time for dinner.

/=/=/=/=/

"You are bloody kidding me!" Ellie practically screamed.

She was fully aware that people had turned in her direction. If she had been in their shoes and heard her response, she would have done the same. She felt bursting into tears, but she didn't dare. She was barely in through the door and they slapped her in the face. Metaphorically, that is.

"You are bloody kidding me," she forced out, a little more quietly.

SOCO stood before her, feeling for her. He really, really did feel for her.

She had barely got in through the front door and he was adding another layer to her caseload. "It just got worse, one hundred times worse. Did I do something to you in a passed life? No. Don't answer that. Where's the family? Does anyone know?"

"Uniforms are down there now. I just got back from the scene. Been there all night."

"Oh god, what's this town come to?" Ellie voiced. She rubbed both hands down her face and turned a little on her ankles to see her husband walk through the door. She could tell by the slow steps he took and the look on his face that he had just heard the news. Decisions. And it had to be now. There was one girl left, one target. And if they screwed this up she would be next and they would never know who or why. The next phase was on her shoulders. "Greg. Get me transport police. I want the station watched for anyone suspicious. Oh god, he's probably left the town by now, but I can't sit here and do nothing. Stewart, get me Traffic. Can we authorise road checks? If we can, get them done. I want every car in and out of town checked."

Suddenly there was an expanse of dark blue at the other end of the room. Sandra and Elaine were standing there looking grave.

"I presume everyone has heard?" Elaine asked.

"That I've been proved right?" Hardy replied, his voice hard. "PC Daniel's told me."

Elaine nodded. "Hardy, you're off both cases."

"Oh for crying out loud-"

"Go home," Elaine told him. Spend time with your family. Take that day off you asked for. As of now."

Hardy fell silent.

"Miller, take up both cases, merge them and find out where the hell we went wrong."

"Yes, sir," Ellie replied reflexively. She could tell her now where they had gone wrong. "Sir," she began again. "Permission to speak freely?"

Elaine almost blinked in surprise. Beside her, Sandra did. This was unprecedented. "Granted."

Ellie went for it. "The first mistake was treating the murders like two cases, Sir. The second mistake was taking Hardy off in the first place. And the third was blatantly obvious, to be honest. They're not random murders. They're linked to something bigger. We need to place the remaining girls into protective custody. Finding the missing girl has the utmost priority, and the other...She knows something. Why else are these girls being targeted?"

"Ellie?" Hardy spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Ellie ignored him. "I think that it's possible the second girl was a case of mistaken identity. Luiz Gotleib looks like Louise Dusk. Unless you look at their pictures for a very long time or knew them very well you wouldn't notice any difference between them. And now the killer has proven that by getting his intended victim. If we had gone to her first and warned her family, she might still be alive."

"Is that all?" Elaine asked patiently.

"Yes, Sir."

"Do your job, Miller," Elaine replied calmly.

"Sir, if you would-"

"You don't solve cases on supposition, Miller," Elaine cut in. "Get me proof."

Ellie unlocked her drawer and took out the thick folder and plopped it on the desk. She opened it, took out a photo of the four girls and picture of Luiz Gotlieb. She crossed the room and held out the two photos for the Chief Super and the Super to see. "There is the proof. Four girls and one case of mistaken identity. Those four girls saw something. They know something. And there's one leftthat we _can_ get to. If we don't act now, she'll be gone and murderer walks away."

Elaine looked at the photo and then at her. "And the link?"

"Something in Sandbrook," Ellie replied. "I don't know what it is yet. But I'd stake my life on it. The last place they were seen alive, together, is Sandbrook. Permission to work on it. Any lead, any avenue I can find and I'll get you that link."

"You have it. But the girls stay free. If one of them isin here, the killer will know we're on to them."

"Sir, you can't use children as bait!" Hardy erupted.

"You're dismissed, Hardy," Elaine replied sharply. "And not a word of this leaves this room."

Hardy trembled, seethed and swallowed. He nodded. He turned and left the room.

Elaine looked at Ellie. "We need evidence, Miller, not wild goose chases."

"Brian," was all Ellie said. "He said the photo was planted on Sarah's body. But there's more to it than that. There weren't any of Sarah's prints on it. There were no prints at all. And Brian wants to tell you personally about the contents of Louise Dusk's pockets."

/=/=/=/=/

They came out of the office and marched to the Scene Of Crime lab. Brian was expecting them. Louise Dusk's phone was on the table in front of him, plus a couple of other bagged items.

"She had little on her. An epi-pen lid was on her pocket, but the pen is missing. She had ten pounds in English currency, plus another twenty Euros. The phone is fairly new, only has her fingerprints on it. She didn't have many contacts and hasn't bothered to put in her own information. Just six contacts. Her parents - mobile numbers and work numbers; a number belonging to a 'Hans' from Berlin, possibly a boyfriend given one of the emails we spotted, they met on facebook, and three friends. But one number has never been dialled."

"Which number?"

He checked his notes and finishing copying on a spare paper. "The mobile of a Pippa Gilespie."

Sandra blinked. "_The_ Pippa Gilespie?"

Brian quickly jotted the last part down and nodded. "The other number has many calls, so I have no clue why she has a number that was reassigned about two years ago to someone else." He handed the paper over, which had all of the numbers and names as listed in the contacts. "But the name rang a bell when I saw it."

"It should," Jenkinson commented as she looked at the name.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes.

She looked back up in answer to his silence. "That was the name of one of the Sandbrook girls."

Brian straightened. "Well, I suppose this might help confirm ID. Although the family have already confirmed that. I'm guessing you're here for the name of the other contacts," he said.

"Yes," Elaine replied.

"Hailey Bridgewater andDaisy Hardy."

/=/=/=/=/

Out in the corridors, Hardy walked quickly through the building and no one spoke to him. Which was just as well, because he probably would have ripped their heads off. He flat-palmed the entrance doors and descended the steps, barely able to keep it together as he went. He crossed to his car, opened it and got inside. Once he had shut the door, the dam broke.

He wept loudly.

/=/=/=/=/

The case meeting was long. It didn't necessarily drag, but there was a lot to take in. Ellie had had half an hour to go through Luiz's case file. It had far more in it than Sarah's. And now there; was another to add to it. Louise. The poor girl had to have been watched from the minute she arrived in the town. Victim Support was with her family for now. Not that that was much comfort.

SOCO Brian took the floor for at least half of the meeting. It was odd seeing him out of his whites. And a fare portion of what followed was from a criminal psychologist. It was like sitting in on a court case and the judge was summing up.

"First autopsy results on Sarah Wallace; severe bruising to the face, strangulation and several stab wounds to the torso. The thing is, any one of them could have killed her, but it was the strangulation that ended her life. She had to be ID'd through dental records. Even the family didn't recognise her. That meant there was a frenzy of trying things out, testing their own nerve, almost. But that's not the end of the testing. The killer went to a lot of trouble to kill this girl, and went to even more trouble to make sure she was found. It seems deliberate that she was placed exactly where apolice officer would find it. The killer either knows the area or knows who lives at the location. We still don't know where she was killed, but the body was moved, indicated by the drag marks in the drivewayand the condition of the body. She was folded up and placed in a tight upright space for six hours before being dumped. No fingerprints, no fibres, no bodily fluids and no skin beneath the victim's nails, but plenty of planted evidence. And a bus ticket from Finch Lane was dropped near the scene. Might have been wind-blown, but the first body was found at the address in Finch means the killer is of light build, cunning, devious and knows exactlywhat we would be looking for. Either they or the girl may or may not have been on the 42 bus from Bridport. The only biometrics we have is a drop of blood found by the tree root and a tiny sample of skin found on the broken gate latch. We're still awaiting the results of DNA tests on those. But we're looking for is a woman, knowledgeable of police procedures, who picked her victim at , she's injured, possibly quite badly."

"And the second murder?" Elaine prompted.

"There's a lot more I can say on this one," he continued. He pinned a picture of Luiz Gotleib onto a fresh section of the board. "She was abducted from the Traders' Hotel, Room 15, while brushing her teeth. The only way to have got her out of the building without being seen is via the fire exit around the back, the door of which can be opened from either side. The skin samples collected from under the nails will take a week to confirm the DNA results. We have only the sock to go on. It was shoved quite far back into her mouth, preventing her from screaming, but she was still able to breathe. She put up a fight, lost her shoe on the back stairs, but ultimately was bettered by superior strength. Bruises were found on her arms where her arms were forced and held behind her back. She died of horrendous internal injuries, specifically uterine tearing, which is often a non-survivable injury. She bled to death, rendering finding any genetic residue of her killer impossible. We are still looking for her skirt; sky blue with a printed white flower on it. We need that found. It may hold vital evidence. We have found no connection at all between Luiz Gotleib and the other two victims."

Ellie had an answer**. **"There isn't one."

"Sarah Wallace had no connections to the photograph or to the girls in it, even if it was found in her back pocket," Sandra put in.

"I suspect it was planted on the body, as a dare," the psychologist suggested. "The woman who killed the first girl is arrogant in order to hide a deep resentment and dent in her confidence. She's in a corner and is attempting to provoke the police, to test the officer's the second girl; we know this girl was raped, brutally rupturing her internal organs. A massive internal haemorrhaging from a tear in her womb sealed her fate. She was most definitely attacked by a man, heavily built, tall with size twelve shoes. This man has a commanding presence, a confidence bordering on arrogance and only cares about himself. He's hiding something. He's afraid that something is going to come out and he will stop at nothing to keep it a secret. ID found in the girl's pocket confirmed her as Luiz Gotleib, a German national. It was a brutal and hurried killing, desperate to get it over with as much as keep her silent, but he was disturbed before he could finish the job. Looking at her picture and a picture of the third girl, this is only too obvious that she's a case of mistaken identity. No doubt about it." He pinned a picture of Louise Dusk underneath Luiz's and continued. "Only when Louise Dusk arrives, does he realise his mistake. The killer would have made steps to reassess his position and go after his intended he's panicking now and makes even more mistakes. He's still in the area and waiting for someone else."

There was a collective shudder around the room.

"O'Malley, what's the news from the Consulate so far?" Elaine asked.

"A representative will be coming down this afternoon, sir," Sandra replied. "It will take several days to file the paperwork with the German consulate and the foreign office. The family have requested the body be released so that they can go home. Their visas expire at the end of next week."

Elaine turned to the psychologist. "Could we have prevented the third death?"

"Third attack was inevitable," he continued, only just keeping the accusatorial tone to himself. "This time, witnesses heard the girl scream and went to help, but the attack was hidden from view by the large bushes. Louise Dusk, who also lives in Germany,moved there several years ago. She is allergic to many types of plant and carried an epi-pen, but it's missing. The lid was crushed and left in her pocket, perhaps the killer found it a sign of weakness, perhaps there is a resentment of medicine or medical matters. I think it was the last thing the killer did before leaving her to die. She was dragged from her hotel and into the bushes. But here's the thing – he doesn't use force. There was no bruising found on her. He wanted it to be as different from the previous act, either to throw the police off, or to prove to himself that she was willing and compliant. It means he might well be looking for a man in a troubled relationship where sexual gratification has been denied for some time."

"The absence of bruising was confirmed by the pathologist, but it was not consensual. There are signs that she put up one hell of a fight," Brian put in. "She died later in hospital. Despite a blow to the head and face, the cause of death was anaphylaxis. She was found lying in leaf litter, half covered. The girl's mother said Louise was allergic to rhodedendrons. She would not have gone into the bushes willingly. But there's something else." He stood up and took out an evidence bag containing a photograph from his own file and stuck it on the board next to the others. The two girls were practically identical. "This is Louise came to me after the second girl was found and he confided in me that he had seen her before, but he couldn't remember where. We have to assume the killer made the same mistake."

"I think this confirms our suspicions that Luiz Gotleib was a case of mistaken identity."

"And my husband is vindicated," Ellie added.

Elaine gave her an accepting look. "Where was this photograph found?"

"It was inside the outer cover of her Blackberry," Brian replied. "If the cover hadn't fallen off the phone during Louise's desperate struggle, no one would have known it was there."

Ellie gazed at the collection of photos, thinking deeply. There was something missing. Something... People around her were continuing with the meeting, but there was something about the pictures.

"Wait," she called out.

Her voice cut through theirs' as she stood up. She had a frightening thought in her head. Not running around or frantic of hectic. Just sat there like a glaring ogre.

"Turn the pictures over."

"Miller?" Elaine queried.

"There were four photographs, taken by one person, all copies of an original. Each of the girls was given one. Louise Dusk, Daisy Hardy, Pippa Gillespie and Haley Bridgewater. Pippa Gillespie had hers on her bedside table right up until she died five years ago. Louise died this morning with hers in her pocket. We have no idea where Haley Bridgewater is, she's still missing, but I'm guessing she has this picture as well. The fourth girl is my stepdaughter. I thought she was in Sandbrook, but it's possible she's here, in Broadchurch, on holiday. Where's her copy of the photo?"

Elaine took the pictures down and turned them over. Written on the back of each of the photos was a name in faded cartridge ink. The first, from Sarah's jeans pocket, was crisp and fresh and bore the name Daisy Hardy. The second was from the Sandbrook case file and bore the name Pippa Gillespie. The third, inside the evidence bag, was Louise's had her name on it, and was dog-eared and worn from being in a pocket for a long time.

"Why didn't anyone notice this before?" Elaine asked.

"It's faded," Brian commented. "It would take someone who knew about it to know it was there. How did you know?"

"Because my husband was there when the photograph was taken." She quickly explained what he had told her about that daft afternoon. "He has the original,in his wallet."

"Ellie's right. Perhaps it was premature of me to take him off the case," Sandra spoke apologetically. "We could have known about this days ago."

"Too late to go back over that now," Elaine responded. "We need to get a move on with finding out who knew about these photographs, and how he came to have Daisy's. I want surveillance on the family. Make it covert. I don't want them knowing they're being watched. The town's twitchy enough as it is. If the killer is dipping in and out of Broadchurch I want him stopped before he kills again. Ellie, go to Sandbrook and find out where Haley Thatcher moved to. Find out every definite, possible, plausible and vague link between them and the Sandbrook case. My instincts tell me it's linked by more than an old photograph."

"And you'll reinstate DI Hardy?" Ellie asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry. I can't. He's too close to this. If we put all the cards on the table, Hardy is stilla suspect."

Ellie's heart sank almost to her jaw.

Elaine did not react. "I'm already going against procedure keeping you on the case, as it is, Miller. But bag me that killer before he strikes again... and I'll beg the top brass to reinstate DI Hardy. On my knees if I have to."

Ellie was ready to protest again, but then her face paled. "Oh my God..."

"What?" Sandra inquired.

It took a moment for Ellie to get the words out, words that she knew would chill the room.

"If I'm right that he's being gaslit, then we may have to keep him in the dark about that for now. If the killers suspect for an instant that he knows... they might strike again. And closer to home."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	17. Episode 3, Part 2

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Three. Chapter Two: Unwanted Public Confrontation<strong>

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Tess noted as they walked down the road to the beach.

"Stop fussing, woman," Bruce snapped.

"Oi. Don't you 'woman' me! You bad-tempered old sod!" Tess threw back at him.

"Do we have to go to the beach," Ben whined.

"Of course we do," Tess replied. "It's the whole point of going to the seaside."

Daisy slowed to a stop. "Mum, I forgot my medicines," she called out, patting her jeans pockets. "And I'm not feeling too good."

"Oh, Daisy, go back and get them." Tess fished into her bag for the key to their room. "And don't be too long about it."

Daisy caught the keys. "I won't. I promise. I don't want to miss the beach," she replied and headed back up the hill towards the B&B.

/=/=/=/=/

Hardy walked alone. Just looking, not really seeing the movement of people around him. No one seemed to notice him and he would rather the world went to hell anyway. He was calmer now. Sort of. Numb was the closest word he could think of. And he didn't dare think. Thinking brought the tears back and the terror and the frustration quickly followed. He'd rather not have another heart attack. He supposed if he didn't have the pace-maker he might have keeled over by now.

The sky was cloudy and sullen. Like his mood. There was blue sky all around the grey cloud. It seemed to be following him like those cartoon thunder storms. But it quickly passed over head without dropping any of its rain, and was gone from sight. His mood wasn't so easy to shift.

The only comfort he had at the moment was the bag of chips in his hand. Might have been a little unplanned, but somehow it seemed like the only type of food that would remotely hit the spot for a snack, much less lunch. He was offered fish, but the idea just put him off eating. Chips was about all he could manage.

And he had had to get out of the station for a bit. And would have voluntarily if he hadn't been told to go home. Now he had no cases to work on, and he did absolutely nothing! Although he supposed he could have gone home and fixed that bed as he had promised Ellie. But he doubted he could have concentrated on the task. He might have broken it all the more in a fit of anger.

The phrase 'orders from above' was a police officer's worst headache. It limited what you could do and often meant that any action you thought was necessary might cost you your job. And if that happened what the hell was he supposed to do then? So he left, before he opened his mouth and made the 'orders from above' permanent.

Being out here meant he was missing yet another case meeting. And another dead girl in the mortuary and this time he had no idea what was going on. God, he wanted to know the exact times of death for the victims. Then he might be able to get himself eliminated as a suspect and maybe back to work. He knew that was why he had been taken off both cases. He wasn't stupid.

He hated uncertainty more than anything. When would they call him back? He had never been relieved of duty. Not like this. Young girls were in danger, including and especially his daughter, and they were blaming him. Obviously there was more to it than procedure, because Ellie was still in there, still in charge of the case.

Connelly was right. He had been here before. In more ways than one. In limbo; after the Sandbrook case. Suspended for six months, his testimony non admissible in court, his hard work passed to another officer. The humiliation that followed. The loss of his family. He was facing that now. Again. Oh yes, Connelly was right about that. He had also been in Broadchurch before. As a boy he had sat on the sand, made sandcastles, been out to the rock pools at low tide, been up to the old WW2 bunker on the cliff top, to hide in fear of his father while he and his mother shouted and argued and ranted at each other.

And he imagined on his face the same look on his face has he had seen on Tom's. He had vowed not to put any children of his through that, but had broken that promise. Twice. He had made it up to four of them. But what the hell was he supposed to say to Daisy?

He tried to imagine what Ellie would be doing now. At her desk? Out talking to witnesses, or investigating reams of files and back-stories and post-mortems and alibis. There was more to police work than met the eye. She would be a while, if she was talking with witnesses, could be hours if she's researching. She had to notify and re-interview the family of the first victim, now that they had positively identified her. Since Desai was on maternity leave, he susposed she would be out with Anna again. He liked Anna, a very competent detective. She had the makings of a DI herself if she kept it up. Still plenty of time for that. She had only joined the team a year before he had arrived.

He walked aimlessly. He supposed walking a bit further on would pass a little extra time. Maybe it would even help to clear his head.

As he munched on a chip, he glanced up the promenade, checking what was happening around him. Force of turned his head towards the beach, and he saw something that froze him in place.

His ex-wife was on the beach. She was still as beautiful as she was when he had first met her, a little more rounded in places, she'd had kids so it was to be expected, but she had killed any love he had had for her. She was giving the air of someone trying to pretend to enjoy something she didn't really enjoy. Or there was something tightly hidden. She moved stiffly, as if going through the motions. Life hadn't been kind to her since she'd thrown him out.

But it was the man standing over her that was far more interesting. Tess was not one to back down from an argument. And she was giving back a full measure of what the man was giving her. He couldn't hear the words, but the expressions were enough. Clearly this holiday, if it was a holiday, had not been by choice.

The man looked familiar to him. He had been in Sandbrook, a lab technician, if he recalled correctly. He might have been the third possible father for Tess's son. He couldn't place his name, though. He didn't really look like a lab technician, more like a bouncer. He was built like a tank. Perhaps he did amateur wrestling, or some such. He certainly looked like he could do with a bit of anger management. Hardy's mood soured as he watched the scene play out, with two children watching in horrified silence, trying to pretend to be somewhere else.

Tess was on her feet now, jabbing a finger at the man's chest. He couldn't tear his eyes away, even though the heated quarrel was putting him off his food. And it definitely was Tess. She always argued with her finger. Looking back it was funny, but at the time it was just a little scary.

So this was the third man he'd heard about when Ben was born. He suspected that once the affair had come to light and the DNA test done on the baby, the DS had shoved Tess out the door. Hardy felt a wave of vindictive pleasure at knowing that. Unless this was another man she had met later. He didn't know, but he would not be 'd skipped beds as fast a stone across water and probably just as often.

He didn't want to care. Not really. Even if it was a little reassuring that he had not been hallucinating the other day. Seeing her now was the proof that he had seen her. The stress had not got to him. He wondered how long Tess had been in Broadchurch, and how long she would be here for. Would she allow him one conversation with Daisy?

Daisy should have been there – in fact he'd mistaken to other holidaymakers for Tess' kids – but all he could see was a young boy sitting on the beach towel. He hadn't seen him. He had his back to him, but he had to guess the boy was Ben. He had grown considerably since the last time he had seen him.

His mind recalled Daisy sitting on a beach in her swimming costume, the day he had found out she had had a tattoo done on her arm. The tattoo she'd got without asking them first when she was just thirteen. The tattoo shop had shut down shortly after that, for tattooing with reused needles.

He silently begged for Daisy to turn up so he could at least wave to her. He doubted Tess and Beefcake would notice. He could hardly call him lover-boy. They were practically at each other's throats. It was impossible to deny that his pride had been wounded when he had learned about the affair, but he was somehow glad it wasn't working out as well as they had probably planned. What man would not be hurt when his wife ran off with another man? He should have been enough. She had been enough for him.

A short blur of movement suddenly came off the beach towel and rushed toward him. Along with a cry that shocked him and drew attention from the people around and anywhere within earshot.

"Daddy!"

He tried to step out of the way, but the boy slammed against his leg and clutched it like his life depended on it. Alec was speechless. He had not seen this boy in years, not since he was a baby, barely two years old, and yet the boy remembered him?! And why was he calling him Daddy? He held his bag of chips out of the way, just in case he dropped them. They weren't as hot as they had been, but they were hot enough to scald.

And suddenly another blur hurried towards him. Tess was running after the boy, but her walk was a little stiff, like she was favouring one leg slightly. "Sorry. Really sorry," she apologised. Then she met his eyes and she froze. "Alec."

Hardy took a deep breath to steady his tone. He had to remain calm. "Tess," he replied flatly. "I wasn't seeing things the other day, then. You were in town."

She picked the boy up. "Ben, be quiet," she told the boy sharply. "We're on holiday," she said to Alec. "What are you doing here?"

He did not care for the accusatory tone, but he refused to react to it expressly. Besides, her surprise at seeing him here seemed fake to him. His face had been on national television during the Danny Latimer case, so she had to have known where he was. "I took a job here. DI."

She huffed as she adjusted her grip on the wriggling boy who was whimpering and trying to get back to Hardy. "Bit of a difference from Sandbrook."

"The change has been a good one."

Her eyes suddenly spied his left hand. "You remarried."

"And that matters to you?" he challenged.

"Why should it?" she muttered defensively, hinting that her pride has been wounded, but not really wanting him to know that. "Can't believe anyone would have you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that insulting yourself?"

She bristled at the reminder that she had chosen him once. "Who is she?"

Suddenly Connelly's words came back to him, prickling his spine and making him swear the hairs at the nape of his neck were standing on end. "Where's Daisy?"

"I asked first."

"And I haven't got one answer from her in years. Where is she? Is she staying elsewhere?"

"No, she's with us. And doing find without you," she snapped.

"Daisy misses you, Daddy," Ben loudly protested. "She says so!"

Tess slapped the back of Ben's hand, held tightly in her other hand. "Be quiet. What have I told you about speaking to strangers?"

Ben's bottom lip stuck and it looked as though he might burst into tears, but he didn't. He fell silent, though.

"I'd heard you'd come here to recover from a breakdown. So I assume that heart attack rumour was false then, if you're still on the force?"

Hardy was instantly shaking, seething. "Hardly. I don't know who told you I'd had a breakdown. I'm been fine on that level, thank you. It was my heart. I had a pacemaker put in two Christmas ago. Saved my life, though the doctors weren't sure I'd survive the procedure."

Ben gasped. "You nearly died?"

"Ben!" Tess snapped.

Hardy made his expression and tone soften. The boy did not deserve one bit of his anger and he wasn't about to give anyone reason to think he could hurt a child. The dispute was with his mother, not him. "I'm fine now, as you can see."

"That's good," the boy replied. "I'll tell Daisy all about seeing you."

"Stop it," Tess ordered. "You don't need to say anything to him."

A man's voice came in like a small but hard wave. "What's this?" Beefcake had arrived like a storm front. He glared at Hardy as if he was something less than human. "Who the hell are you?!"

Hardy looked at him stiffly, keeping his voice even. "Alec Hardy. I remember you. You worked in Sandbrook Labs so I'm sure you'll remember me. I'm sorry to say I don't remember your name."

The man scoffed as his expression changed to cold cognition. "Bruce Stratton. And you are going to leave Tess and the kids alone."

Hardy definitely remembered his clipped London accent and the clipped attitude that went with it.

Since he did not know for certain if this was the man Tess had been three-timing him with, Alec knew he could not make any accusations. "I have no argument with you. If it was up to me I'd never see either of you again. All I want is to see Daisy. Why hasn't she been able to answer me? Did you take the phone I gave her, Tess?"

"Mind your own business!" Tess retorted. "She was far too young to have phone!"

"Since you stopped me from seeing her how else was I supposed to talk to my daughter?"

"I don't want you anywhere near my daughter," she told him. "Do you get that? _My_ daughter! You're not fit to be around children. You're too soft in the head and too busy with you eyes elsewhere!"

Hardy felt eyes on them. He could see Becca not far away enjoying an afternoon off, having not yetbeen given the go ahead to open up again. Dean was parking his bike in the car park beyond along the Esplanade. And there were dozens of other people around. That meant this altercation would be around town in a matter of hours. He ignored them. "My eyes were never elsewhere," he refuted.

"Oh and the ring on your finger is what? My imagination?"

Alec narrowed his eyes. "I'm not the one who walked out on our marriage. I was faithful. You made it impossible for me to stay even for Daisy's sake."

She flushed lividly. "You were impossible to live with! I told you clearly that kids were out of the question. But no, you have to go and do a number on me and almost cost me my career!"

"And what about family, Tess? You cost us that. You tore us up as if we meant nothing to you."

"You know what," she dismissed him with a wave of her free hand and changed the subject. "I don't believe you. You're nothing but a lying, scheming shit. You're didn't come here to work, you followed us here. You're sick in the head with some kind of delusional disorder. And I'm telling you, stay away from my kids. Coz I'll have you in court for molesting and attempted kidnapping. And I'll make it stick!"

"Then why did you tell Ben I was his dad?" Hardy demanded.

She and Bruce turned away sharply. Ben looked back at Alec with pleading eyes, like he wanted him to take him away.

The talk the other night with Ellie came back to him, preying on his thoughts. Had he made the right choice in not fighting for Daisy, because of his slowly failing health? He could have made more of an effort on the living arrangements. If he had won custody then he would have fought hell and high water to keep her. And then there was Ben. The look on the boy's face just said it all. He was perhaps the unhappiest child he had ever seen. At least when he and Tess were still married Daisy had found happiness with him. Who did Ben have?

He had noticed the bruise over Ben's eyeand several more down his legs. Small children tended to bump themselves, and fall down and off things and out of things a lot as they grew and learned their limits. But there was another possibility. Was Ben being mistreated? Why was he so insistent that Bruce was not his father?

Not wanting to be in public a second longer, Hardy dropped the half-eaten bag of chips into the nearest bin and walked away from further confrontation. He walked back toward the station, in the opposite direction, thank god, from the beach.

On the other side of the street on the promenade, Dean stood with his friends. They all watched the DI's movements, thinking about what they just heard.

"What was all that about?"

Dean frowned. "I don't know. From here, that boy looks more like the DI than that other bloke. Kid seems miserable. Like he needed an escape."

"You a mind reader?"

"No, just Chloe had that look so often two years ago. Only worse on him."

That stopped the topic right there.

Across the road, Mark stood holding the pushchair, watching the drama unfold. Beside him, Beth tugged his arm. She didn't want to be rubber-necking on someone else's life. Hers was cluttered enough without known other people's problems.

Sitting on one of the benches along the Promenade, Maggie was silent. She knew what this town would do with the clues that had just been revealed. She was glad there weren't that many locals around to witness this. Hardy had had enough problems since moving here. He didn't need tongues wagging as well.

But there was one other person watching. Stepping out from the shadow of the taxi doorway, Karen White closed the door. What a welcome, she thought silently. With her mind focused and set, she headed in the direction of the beach, and the very people who would give her more information about DI Hardy, whose time to be dismissed was long overdue.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	18. Episode 3, Part 3

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Three. Chapter Three: Differing Goals<strong>

Karen White followed the progress of Tess and Bruce and Ben. She smelled a story. She needed one. She had gained herself a footing in investigative journalism and she wasn't about to let that slide without a fight. She was just one step up from a private detective, though the work was more or less the same. It wasn't without its perks. She'd got to sleep with the enemy last time.

"Excuse me," she called out when she felt the timing was right.

Tess and Bruce stopped level with the door of the deck-chair rental kiosk and glared at her, sizing her up, wondering if this was the woman her ex had married.

"And you are?" Bruce said, sharply.

Karen was not intimidated. "Karen White, with the Daily Herald."

"You're a long way from home," Tess commented, hiding the flash of recognition.

"I got wind that a murder had taken place here a few days ago. I came two years ago to cover the Danny Latimer case, and I had to return for this. Three murders in the space of two years in a town that hadn't seen any in a long time. It's a big story, and I wanted to talk with you."

"Sorry," Tess replied caustically. "I don't know anything about it. We're not from around here."

Karen was not to be outwitted. As they attempted to move on, she stepped in their path. "I overheard your argument with DI Hardy. I'm very interested in hearing anything you have to say about him."

Tess and Bruce exchanged a look. She nodded. "Take him to the chip shop and get him some lunch, Bruce."

"No!" shouted Ben. "I don't want yucky chips! And I don't want to go with Bruce!"

"Ben! Enough! Do as you're told. Now, go with your dad and stop not calling him that."

Ben pouted as he was put on his feet, and did as he was told. Not that he had much choice. The man grabbed his arm and clasped it in one hand and practically dragged him along.

Bruce groaned. "Come on, you stupid brat! If you dragged your feet this much about eating you'd save me a bloody fortune in food!"

"Shall we go to the Trader's Hotel and talk?" Karen suggested. "We can get a drink at the same time."

"You can't. Scene of crime. The place was closed down," Tess replied. "The guests were all moved out. We were reimbursed, but the new place only does breakfast and there's no en suite bathroom. So we'll probably have to cut our holiday short or risk running out of money."

"There's benches along the Esplanade," Karen suggested. She watched the woman, noticing the slight limp. But she was quiet for now; contemplating her argument with Hardy. It seemed to have been born of a very long feud to have had that much emotion expended on it.

Tess glanced sideways at her, figuring her out, wondering who she was and why she was interested in her ex. Not that she would tell her he was her ex. Unless she already knew. There were many journalists from old cases, far too many to remember. And far too few you'd want to.

They settled on a bench, sitting almost sideways to eye each other with looks of intense dislike and distrust.

"First of all, I know you're Hardy's wife," Karen admitted.

"_Ex_ wife," Tess stressed. "We divorced five years ago."

"Oh. I am sorry to hear that."

"I'm not. And, frankly, neither are you. I can tell fake concern when I hear it," Tess warned her archly.

Karen could feel the claws out already. This was going to be in interesting conversation. She could feel it. "So you're well shot of him, are you? Then why are you here in Broadchurch?"

"Clever," Tess returned acidly. "He followed us, not the other way around. If I never saw him again it would be too soon." She noticed the notebook come out. "What do you want to know?"

Karen paused a moment. She knew the woman's assertion about Hardy following her was at least an exaggeration, since she had determined that Hardy had regained the DI position last year. Still, she was a source that could not be ignored. "You have children. The boy. Is that Hardy's son?"

"No. As it turned out," Tess explained. "I was so sure at first, right up until they told me the results of the DNA test, but no. He's not Hardy's son."

"And Hardy's daughter?"

"Why is she relevant?" Tess asked flatly. "You're here to dig up dirt on my ex. So, dig."

"I wrote the articles on the Sandbrook case, during and after," Karen informed her. "He won't tell me his version of events. I had to piece it together from the families of the victims and eye-witnesses. I'd like to hear about it from your point of view."

"Police officers aren't meant to talk to the Press," Tess mentioned. "What did you hear?"

"I saw with my own eyes that he let the families down, Mrs Hardy."

"Don't call me that," Tess warned her gently. "I'm Mrs. Stratton now. He made his choices and he'll have to live with them," she supposed.

"What choices were they?"

Tess suddenly had an idea. Since her ex had taken the blame, she might as well tell her why he had taken the blame. She was convinced Hardy had sent his woman, and this woman was so open to hear anything she told her. So, she would tell her 'anything'. "We'd swapped cars that night. My car got broken into while he was off getting a bit on the side with a witness, tried to get her to change her story so he could get someone framed for the murders. Get an early arrest, get a promotion. That's what Hardy is all about. Himself. And I nearly took the rap for that. It was my car, after all. Personally I think he did it on purpose, knowing the evidence bags were in there."

"You're saying the robbery was staged?"

"Of course it was staged!" Tess replied strongly.

"What happened after that?"

"I kicked him out. He was dropped from the force and had a breakdown. That's why he's here, following me about, trying to get me back I suspect. I'm not having him back. I found someone better. This is all off the record, right?"

Karen tipped her notepad up to show the blank page. "Haven't written a thing," she assured her.

"Good, cos I don't want that in the papers. I have to protect my daughter, if you don't mind. That's something else he never cared about. He left us, disappeared for three years, not a single visit or phone call and now he suddenly turns up wanting to see her. Not going to happen."

"I think my boss would agree that that is probably not what we're looking for in insights into Hardy as a policeman."

"CID," Tess corrected. "He's a detective inspector."

Karen wondered why she was suddenly defensive of him, given the bitter tale she had just disclosed. Still, they had been married once, she supposed thee was still some tender feelings there. Sometimes it lingered for a long time. She gave the woman a grim smile and slid her notebook back into her bag.

"I'll let you get back to your son, Mrs. Stratton." she stood, and shook her hand. "Thank you. I'll be in touch."

"Good luck."

As Karen walked away, Tess's face cracked from the look of controlled frustration she had managed to hold on tofor the whole time into a satisfied smile as she stood and walked off towards the fish shop.

Unknown to her, Becca Fisher was listening in as she sat in the sunshine, pretending to be a tourist, mere metres away. She kept absolutely quiet so she could remain unseen. She shivered as she watched Tess walk by. "What is she capable of?" she whispered so softly to herself once she was certain she could not hear her steps.

Tucked behind the fronds of a decorative palm along the Promonade, Maggie stepped into view and glanced at Becca. She didn't look at all pleased. Becca turned her head back to her sun-worship, shades down, pretending she had heard nothing.

/=/=/=/=/

Olly Stevens stared at his computer screen. Someone had just uploaded a press release about the murder of Sarah Wallace, a teenager on holiday in Broadchurch. If that wasn't shocking enough, the body had been found on DI Hardy's front lawn. According to the author's investigation, Hardy had been suspended under suspicion of murder. He had no alibi.

And now there were two more murders. He had seen Maggie on the phone most of the day, before she had gone down for a smoke on the sea front, and delegating additional tasks for others to handle. He hadn't known she smoked, but he had the impression it was a ruse, in the same light as going to see a man about a dog.

He was glad to see Beth in that morning. She was in a few mornings each week, helped with the filing and answering the phones. He wasn't sure Maggie needed the extra help, but with Beth needing an escape for a few hours each week, she had made a job for Beth, to help her feel needed and part of the community again.

The door opened, and in stepped someone who made him stiffen right to his toes. And the others saw him blanch instantly. He held his tongue.

Karen blinked at his frozen expression. "Hello, Olly."

"Back in town?" he said without greeting. "I know you didn't find out from a tweet. What was the clue?"

"A police dispatch asking for information from the Sandbrook police station," Karen replied. "They were coming from here in connection to a murder investigation. It was easy to convince my boss that this would be a good story."

Olly glanced at Maggie as she arrived through the door looking angry and alert. Her expression alone convinced him that Karen had other motives.

"Karen White," she said, not yet aware that Maggie had walked in behind her. "Just in case you had forgotten."

Olly felt his blood turn cold. How could he forget? She had taken his innocence in exchange for information. This woman was a snake-in-the-grass. "I hadn't forgotten," he told her frankly.

"Good," she said. "I have some information for you that might change your book on the Sandbrook case. Your rundown of the facts is... inaccurate," she hinted. "Thought I'd let you know before you went to print. Would have been embarrassing to find out afterwards."

Olly could not stop the loud exhale as Maggie Radcliffe walked around the woman and stood with folded arms in front of her, like a barrier between her and Olly.

Karen knew to stand tall. She held out her hand. "How are you?"

Maggie did not even look at the hand, but eyed her warily. "If you're coming for a place to park, you can just walk out the door right now."

"I thought you decided last time thatyou'd rather have me on-side," Karen replied.

"That was before you tricked Olly into writing an article that drove an innocent man to suicide," Maggie returned coldly. "You were out for the DI's blood last time, and he was the one who solved the case. No one else could have, given who the murderer turned out to be. He could have solved it a lot sooner without meddling like yours."

"And that's why I'm writing this book," interjected Olly. "I want the public to gain a healthy distrust of the press so we're held to higher standards of conduct. Everything I know about Sandbrook says that the press had as much to do with it going unsolved for so long as that robbery did."

Karen flicked her eyebrows in mock-surprise. "And I know things about it that haven't made the news."

"If your source is Tess Stratton," Maggie put in. "I would be careful about trusting someone whose record pales in comparison to Alec Hardy's. The man doesn't talk as much to the press, but he's out to find the person involved in this case and arrest the right person for the crime."

"So, you don't want to know who broke into DI Hardy's car," Karen noted. "What a pity. And here I was, thinking you were a viable newspaper."

"Don't you dare hold us to ransom, Karen White!" Maggie warned her.

Karen was unfazed. It was all bluster to her. She flicked her eyes to Olly. "By the way, for yourinformation, it was Hardy and not his wife who was having an affair. His wife was interviewing witnesses when it happened. They had swapped cars that day. The robbery was arranged."

"I'm not interested in your information," Olly told her.

"Suit yourself," Karen said. "I was hoping to prevent a libel case against you. But, if that's what you want-"

"Don't threaten my staff! Now, get out!" Maggie ordered in controlled anger.

Without another word, Karen left the office and walked away.

Olly shook his head. "Why does she hate me so much?"

Maggie grew thoughtful. "I don't know, but I'm thinking it's more to do with her hatred of DI Hardy. Either way, I think we should find out." She turned to lean in. "Put your book aside for a bit. We're going to look into Sandbrook so we can know more about Tess Stratton, nee Hardy, and the robbery. You trust your uncle told us the truth as far as he knew it?"

"Yes. He's an honest man who keeps a lot to himself. And he may be right to do that."

"Karen White was out to wreck his career last time. This time, she's out for his blood. Let's head her off, and maybe... just maybe... we can make her look like a fool. It may even make your name and sell your book before it's even finished."

Olly grinned and others around the room smiled in agreement. "When I first started here I was afraid of you," he admitted. "Now, I think I'm beginning to know how you think. You have a wicked streak that is honed to sniff out the bottom lines before they sink that far. The person the term newshound was invented for."

Maggie beamed. "I knew you would get that one day."

"Maggie?"

They both looked up at the sound of Beth's voice. "Do you need something?" asked Maggie.

"No. I just wanted to say... if you need anything, any help... I'll do it."

Olly straightened as much as Maggie did. He had forgotten she was coming in today.

"I thought you once trusted her," Maggie recalled.

"Not anymore. I think she's trying to discredit DI Hardy, and I want to help him clear his name. Not that I think he did anything wrong. Not until I heard her say that. Because that was shit. I saw enough of him to know a cheat when I see one," she hinted, but did not elaborate. "And he's no cheat. So if there's anything I can look into or research for you, you tell me."

Maggie slowly nodded after a long moment of thinking. "Okay. I'll let you know."

Beth took a breath before going back to her work.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	19. Episode 3, part 4

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Three. Part Four: Feeling Denatured<strong>

Hardy returned to the station. He spoke to no one beyond a 'hi' when one was offered. He was shaken and fuming at the same time. Now that he was here he realised he should have come the long way around and taken longer to get back. He was no longer panicked or desperate or upset, but he was angrier now than when he had left.

He stepped quietly into the room, casting a long glance around the room. Nothing was amiss. No one looked at him as if they thought he shouldn't be there. In fact, the complete opposite; the faces that looked in his direction were all of wishing he could help or wishing they could help.

Ellie's expression was one of deep concern. It was the look she had given him when he had had the heart attack. He'd rather not think about that night. He sighed loudly. Her face just made him feel all the worse. He imagined punching something. He felt like he needed to, but even now he doubted his heart could take that kind of stress. Despite the pace-maker.

He had been gone for at least a couple of hours. He supposed a lot could have happened in that time. But why was the room so empty? Where was a case board? And why was everyone so quiet?

The Chief Super appeared. He still wondered why she was back so soon. He had expected her to be gone for another week or more.

"Hardy," Elaine noted. "Step inside," she indicated his office with a hand.

Hardy did so without question. At least he wasn't being called into _her_ office. He would have met that request with a lot more dread. Jenkinson was a woman of mettle and tight control. He had only even heard her raise her voice once, and that was today. From what he had heard from colleagues who had been stationed here longer, he had to assume it was the first time they had heard her raise her voice as well.

Hardy stood in his office, standing by the corner of his desk, wondering if he should bother sitting down. If she was going to take his warrant, he might as well remain standing. He heard her shut the door behind her and carefully lifted his gaze.

Elaine held his gaze. "I am not going to order your next move, but I would like you to hand over all files and documents relevant to the Luiz Gotleib murder," she spoke.

"I'm surprised you didn't just come in here and taken them," he revealed.

"When I said orders from above, that was the truth. But I did not agree with the decision. I want you to know that. In all my years on the Force I have never had the privilege of working with a finer DI than you. I trust your judgement, your work is exemplary, your eye for detail legendary and your rapport with the troops, uniform and plainclothes, is second to none."

Hardy blinked in surprise. That was a rather impressive list of compliments. "I hear a 'but' in there," he noted slowly.

"I'm combining the murder cases," she told him simply. "That is where the 'orders from above' comes in."

He frowned. "What? I know I said the cases were connected, but-"

"The latest details seem to agree with your hunch."

"Then put me on the joint team," he asked. "I can solve this case."

"I don't doubt you or your ability, Hardy."

"Then why are you taking me off the case?"

"Because you have no alibi for the first attack and no alibi for the third."

Hardy's jaw dropped. He sucked in a breath, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. He leaned on the desk, feeling faint. "You're accusing or implying I had something to do with murder and rape," he spoke, his eyes on the desk, trying to find some ounce of strength to get through this. He looked up. "Am I being arrested? Are you asking me to leave the force? Is that it?"

Elaine shook her head. "Not me."

"Orders from above," he repeated, feeling empty.

"And there's another matter," she added. "Phone calls came in while you were out. Members of the public have said you were seen in an altercation with a woman and a man down on the Esplanade. One caller even said it looked as though you were attempting to snatch a child."

He shook his head numbly. "No. No. no. no. That's not what happened. I swear, that's not what happened! I never touched the boy! He ran up to me!"

"I believe you," Elaine assured him. "Did you shout at him?"

"No. If anyone raised their voice, the boy did. And then the mother had a go at me and then the father took a turn; he threatened me."

"Do you know the boy?"

"Only vaguely," he said. "He's my ex-wife's son. He seemed to think that I was his father."

"Are you?"

"No, and I proved that a long time ago, shortly after he was born. I haven't seen him since he was two years old."

"One caller said the woman threatened to accuse you of child molesting."

Hardy's eyes darkened with quiet rage, a rage that boiled beneath his now calm exterior. That got the Chief Super's attention.

"What did you say to them? Tell me, in your words, what happened."

Hardy slid into his seat with a heavy breath. It's not like he had had long enough to forget. And it was best to offload here before it was spread by the rumour mill, or worse the town. Though, on that point, he doubted he had any say in the matter.

"I left here and went for chips. I decided to walk off my emotions. Can't say it worked. I was trying to work out some details about the second murder, something I missed. And as I drew level to the deckchair kiosk at the end of the Esplanade I saw my ex-wife. She was sitting on the sand while a man was towering over her," he recalled quietly, slipping into the narrative of his memory. "He was verbally abusing her, and I tried to care. I recognised his face but I didn't recall his name. He works in the genetics lab in Sandbrook. I watched them, wondering if he was going to lay into her. If he did I'd be in a perfect place to stop him. Call it instinct. I'm a policeman, after all. And then, Ben jumped up and came rushing towards me, called me 'Daddy', and hugged my leg. Tess hurried up to pull him off me, told him off. Andthen she realised it was me. I was more concerned about dropping my hot chips on him than anything. "I told her I'd thought I'd seen her a few days ago and now I could confirm I hadn't been hallucinating.

"Ben kept wanting to tell me something, but she told him to be quiet. She was holding his hand so tight it was hurting him. Tess demanded to know what I was doing here. I told her I worked here. She seemed surprised, but I know her. I was married to her for sixteen years. She _knew_ I was here. She noticed my wedding ring, wanted to know who my wife was. I didn't tell her. I said 'and that matters to you?'; I couldn't help myself, confronting her as much as she was confronting me. I have a feeling she's here to find out who I married, cause trouble. She was defensive, jealous and adversarial. She said 'I can't believe anyone would have you'. I told her she was insulting herself. I asked her where Daisy was. She refused to answer, but said she was with them. She said Daisy was fine without me."

Hardy felt his chin wobble and felt his breath snag in his throat as the emotions bubbled closer to he surface. "I wish I could ask Daisy that, to be sure for myself, but she wasn't there. Ben told me Daisy misses me. Called me Daddy again. Tess slapped him, told him to be quiet, told him that he wasn't to talk to strangers. I felt so hurt by that. I set out to prove he wasn't mine, but... All that's happened, all that time, and the pain just came flooding back. And I was angry. She accused me of following her then she accused me of having a breakdown, said my heart attack was fake. I calmly told her I hadn't had a breakdown, and that my heart attack was real. I don't know how I was so calm. I told her I'd had a pace-maker fitted and nearly died. I think that scared Ben a bit. I don't like scaring kids."

He paused, suddenly amused. "The boy looked so angelic, looking at me, so innocent and so surprised that I had nearly died. I told him I was fine. And he said, 'that's good, I can tell Daisy that I've seen you'. Tess again reprimanded him for talking to me. And then her partner turned up, demanding to know who I was. I told him I was certain he knew who I was, since we'd met in Sandbrook, said I couldn't remember his name. He told me his name was Bruce Stratton and then told me that I was to leave Tess and the kids alone. I didn't like his attitude, but I kept that to myself."

"Were you jealous of him?" Elaine suddenly asked.

Hardy was startled by the question and the spell was broken. "No. No, I wasn't jealous. How could I be? He's not very nice. And besides, I know he's not the one Tess left me for. But she's obviously not with that man now either." He drew a deep breath, feeling the emotions drain away, leaving him far more relaxed. "I told him I had no argument with him, and that if it was up to me I'd never see him or Tess again. But I wanted to see my daughter. I was awarded that right by the courts, but Tess stopped all that, in retaliation for demanding a DNA test on her baby. I asked her outright if she had taken Daisy's phone, because I know my daughter hated phones, but she would have replied. Tess told me to mind my own business, said Daisy was far too young to have a phone. I told her that there was no other way to maintain contact. She told me she didn't want me anywhere near Daisy."

He sobbed unexpectedly and turned away, looking at his hands still on the desk. "She said Daisy was _her_ daughter, as if I'd had no part in her conception. She said I was soft in the head and too busy with my eyes elsewhere, like I'd cheated on her. I denied any such wrongdoing. She said my wedding ring was proof that I had. I reminded her that she was the one who'd walked out on our marriage, not me. She had made living with her so untenable. She accused me of getting her pregnant on purpose to ruin her career. I told her that we were a family that she had ruined that far more than having children had ever done. I told her the day she refused to pass on Daisy's birthday present when she turned thirteen thatshe had harmed Daisy emotionally with her constant shouting at me. She called me a scheming liar today, just like then. She didn't believe that I worked in Broadchurch, but believed I'd followed her here, said I was sick in the head with delusions. She threatened me, said if I didn't stay away from Daisy she would have me arrested for child molesting and kidnapping, said she'd make the charges stick, practically shouted it loud enough for the entire town to hear."

His voice petered out to nothing. He sat for several seconds, trying very hard not to give in to the tears that filled his eyes.

"Has it been proven that he's not your son?" Elaine asked.

Hardy nodded, for a moment not trusting his voice. "Yeah. But for a long time I was hoping it would actually come back as a positive match, so I could pretend Tess's affair hadn't happened." He took several even breaths. "I wanted kids, always have, but she didn't. I lived through the hell of her verbal abuse while she was pregnant about ruining her career, and I shielded my daughter as best I could from her abuse for the years that followed. I couldn't go through that again. By the time Daisy was six I'd gone for a vasectomy; scheduled it for a day off. Had it done on the Friday and was back at work on the Monday. I didn't tell her. So when she told me she was pregnant I knew it wasn't mine. I told her so. And I proved that the baby wasn't mine with a DNA test as soon as he was born. She threw me out then. There I was; my personal life in tatters and the biggest case of my career thrown out of court by a robbery and my wife had run off with a colleague. I was sleeping rough and suspended from duty. I confronted her today for telling the boy that I was his dad when I know for a fact that he isn't."

"Witnesses said you picked the boy up."

"I didn't pick him up," he said. "She did. But she put him down again. His wriggling seemed to aggravate some injury to her was limping awkwardly."

"You do understand that I have no choice but to follow up these allegations?"

Hardy nodded. "I'm finished."

"Not so fast-"

"Sir, you know as well as I do, an accusation of this kind doesn't need an arrest or a conviction. It just needs a mention and it's logged on the permanent record as a crime. My career is over."

"I have never seen you give up, Hardy. What's changed?"

Hardy looked at her, his eyes wet with unshed tears. "My daughter is out there. I've been told that by a man who had given the police reliable information before that her friends are being picked off, one by one, and she could be next. That's what's changed. Every other case I've handled it's always been strangers, people I don't know and never heard is different. She's my daughter, my flesh and blood."

"And Pippa Gilespie? She wasn't a stranger," Elaine pointed out.

Hardy sank in realisation. One of the girls from the Sandbrook case. His daughter's school friend from years ago. He had never had the heart to tell Daisy why her friend never answered her letters anymore. How could he tell her that and then follow it by telling her he couldn't catch the killer, because her mother had been in another man's bed and had the evidence stolen from her bag? Daisy had been through enough from her own mother to have gone through the hell of finding out her friend had been murdered and then having to face the media on top. He had begged Tess to move away, to keep Daisy out of the spotlight while he took the blame. Tess had called him an arrogant arse, but the house had been emptied days later, so he had had to assume she had at least taken his advice. And now she had turned up, for reasons unknown.

"I need all remaining files on Luiz Gotleib," Elaine said again.

Hardy knew he had no choice. He glanced at the room behind her where the other detectives were working away, probably giving his office covert glances every now and then, waiting for him to be sacked, waiting to guess his fate or anything else. Maybe the murmurs had already started. Although Ellie would nip that in the bud, just as he had done for her when her husband had been arrested for murder.

"I have no alibi," he recalled. "Except for the fact that I was here when Luiz Gotleib was attacked. I was home, in bed with my wife and Sarah Wallace was murdered and eating dinner with my children and Louise Dusk was raped. But a few untrue comments from passers-by and suddenly I'm in the frame for a string of crimes I have tried to get you to accept as one and the same case."

Alec kept his expression controlled as he unlocked his desk drawer and lifted out the file. Inside the photographs had been carefully attached to the relevant witness statements. Statements and scene of crime reports her neatly stackedtogether for clarity, while his notes were at the back. He pushed it across the table to her. And he would not wait for her to ask, he would volunteer it. He unclipped his ID tag and took out his warrant wallet from his inside jacket pocket and laid them on top of the folder.

Nothing more needed to be said. He pushed the chair back and rose to his feet. "May I leave now, sir?" he asked.

Elaine was stunned, but she said nothing about it. "You may go," she replied.

There was no anger, unlike the previous time he had walked out. There were no personal items on his desk, so he had nothing to clear out or take with him. He would simply walk away from everything he knew and loved, everything he had worked for and lived for.

"You'll be back on duty in no time," she assured him.

Hardy doubted it. He wished he could find out who had called the station and made such outrageous accusations. But he supposed that investigation, like the string of murders, would be someone else's case now. He left the building at once, got into his car and drove away.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	20. Episode 3, Part 5

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Three, Part Five: Intolerant Poeple<strong>

Ellie hated having to inform families of bad things. In a sense, Beth's running onto the beach and seeing Danny's shoes had taken that out of her hands. Did not mean it was any less painful. That she knew the victim had seemed exponentially worse.

Although this case was threatening to take the place as the worst of her career, she could at least maintain a detached focus. She had to sit with DC Anna Broome whom she had to work with for interviews and anything else where she had to have a partner. They were in Becca's hotel, sitting in the public bar for what privacy they could have while keeping the witnesses as calm as possible under the circumstances. Upstairs was still sealed off with 'police do not cross' tape, but the pub itself was open, though no one was in. Still, it was better then having this discussion at the busy and peopled B&B.

Sitting before her was the first victim's family. John Wallace was an army engineer. He had only brought his family to Broadchurch for a day out while he was on compassionate leave having lost his father. Now he had lost so much more. Sitting on the bench beside him was his younger daughter, Daley. At thirteen she already had the same build as her sister, but her face was still prepubescent. His wife, Samantha, sat in a chair, he hands in her lap, was a seamstress with a repairs and alterations shop. All three sat numbly, having already been contacted by an officer who went around talking with guests to see if anyone could ID the first girl. It was bad enough that they had had their daughter cruelly killed, but to then be told they couldn't ID the body, but that dental records were needed just made the entire nightmare twice as bad.

"Mr. Wallace, what brought you to Broadchurch?" asked Ellie.

He swallowed. "My dad... died a month ago. Cancer."

Ellie sucked in a breath. Her partner closed her eyes. "We're very sorry," Ellie said.

Wallace noddeda little. "I had to wait to go on compassionate leave. I'm an engineer with the army. The girls always wanted to go to the seaside, so I set aside a day. Cleaning out my dad's house has been stressful on us all."

"Did Sarah know anyone in Broadchurch?"

Wallace looked at Daley. "I don't think so, but she seemed to make friends wherever she went."

"Who?"

Daley answered, softly. "Maybe it was Mariana, Dad?"

"Shshsh," Wallace stressed. "We don't talk about that."

"We might have to, John," his wife put in.

"What aren't you talking about?" Ellie asked. "If there is a detail that could help us find who killed you daughter, then it's important that we know about it."

Wallace's face tightened and then he nodded, looking ashamed.

"Sarah has a friend," Samantha spoke. "One that we totally do not approve of. We told her we'd never give her permission, not as long as we lived, but she reckons it's real love. But I've told her was it was - filth. It's all innocent at first bat that girl drew my daughter in, filled her head with all that nonsense. It's like a cult."

Ellie was confused. "Cult?

There was a long silence. John glanced at Samantha and they seemed reluctant to voice the shame.

"Sarah told up last year that she was gay," he blurted out. "I told her I could accept anything, drink, drugs, crime, her telling us she was pregnant. But not that. It's vile. She said she had no choice in the matter. I told her she had every choice; don't act on it. Be normal. But she's been seeing this girl. We tried stopping her."

Ellie stared at him like he was something from the dark ages. She supposed intolerance still existed, but she hadn't ever expected to see it to this extent. "What's her friend's name?"

"Friend!" he grated. "They only know each other through Facebook! For all she knows, it's some perverted middle-aged bloke with a flat full of porn!"

"They have met," Samantha corrected. "She came to the house. I told her we don't allow that sort in our house. She and Sarah stood out in the rain for twenty minutes. When my daughter came in she was wet through and angry. I told her, that's a good sign that she wouldn't like it on the outside. She should come inside and forget the stupidity."

"It's probably her who killed her," John supposed. "They wanted to get married. The day I came home for my dad's wake, she told me that girl asked her to marry her. I flat out refused. She's sixteen, for gods' sakes. She's not a prostitute amd certainly not one of them! She probably followed us down here and killed her."

"May we see her things?" Ellie cut in. She'd heard enough. She doubted she would get anything sensible from the family. The dad was full of anger and the mother couldn't stop crossing herself. Religious and cultural respect where it was due, but this was impeding a murder inquiry. "Maybe there's something that will tell us who this other girl is."

Wallace motioned to a bag by one of the chairs. It was a standard suitcase, soft-bodied with an extendable handle. "That and the blue backpack are hers. She did keep pulling out a letter when we weren't looking. I thought it was from a boyfriend, but the name at the bottom definitely isn't a boy's name. It's in the inside pocket, and I'm sorry, but I should warn you, it's vulgar."

Ellie stood up, moving the suitcase onto one of the tables.

"Does she not have male friends?" Anna asked.

"Lots of friends," Samantha replied. "She's very popular."

"And when did you arrive in Broadchurch?"

"The day she went missing. We hadn't been here long, just a couple of hours," Wallace explained. "Goodness knows what my CO's going to think. I'll be court-martialled for being AWOL."

"And where were you?" Ellie asked as she opened the case and examined the typical wear of a teenager. Leggings, t-shirts, bikini, everything you'd expect a sixteen year-old to have. Donning a pier of gloves she felt around for the 'vulgar' letter. She found it in a lilac envelope, written on lilac paper.

"I this the letter you were referring to?" Ellie asked and read it out. "'Hi, Sarah. Can't wait for Saturday. We can go shopping and get a bite to eat at Nero's. They have a chocolate cake I want to try. Meet me at the bus stop on New Street, by the station, at 10am. We'll go and see a movie and have a giggle in the back row. On the way back, we can walk along the canal and hold hands. I promise to get you home before it gets dark. Love you, Mariana.'"

Wallace took one very brief look at it and shuddered. "That's the one."

"Nothing vulgar in that, sir," Ellie told him lightly.

"Do you remember where you were at the time she went missing? Anna asked. "And what about and your daughters' whereabouts?"

"We had dinner here, at this table,"Daley choked. "We went upstairs to watch television, because we were tired after a long day, and Sarah went outside for a cigarette."

"Where did she get the cigarettes from?" Ellie asked casually as she returned the case to it's former location and began on the backpack.

"I sometimes allow her one of mine," Wallace admitted. I know it's illegal to buy and sell them to under eighteens. I waited until she was sixteen, told her to make an informed choice. And I let her try one. She'd only had three in her life."

"Not one of your proudest achievements, if I might say so, sir?" Anna commented.

Wallace hung his head in shame. "I realise that."

"What about the young woman Sarah befriended when you arrived?" Ellie put in as she went through the backpack. It was filled with stuff you'd need for a long car journey, nothing more.

Wallace blinked suddenly. "Wait, yes. There was one. Didn't Sarah talk some with another guest?"

"Yeah, a woman and her daughter," Samantha recalled.

"Can you describe them?" Ellie prompted.

Wallace closed his eyes. "Tall, light brown hair, daughter looked a bit sickly, maybe 16 years old. The mother was about my age. I'm 46, for the record. I don't guess women's exact ages. A man can't win that one."

Ellie had to smile sadly, recalling something along the same lines Alec once said about women asking for a man's opinion on her clothing. She also instantly recognised who Wallace was talking about. "Were they on their own?"

"She had a man with her, and a boy," Samantha replied. "He seemed to try to stay out of their way, especially the man's."

"Why?"

"I don't know. He just seemed that way. I remember thinking he seemed so sad for someone on holiday, and it wasn't right for someone that young to be that way."

A bit later Ellie and Anna walked out carrying several items in evidence bags; a packet of cigarettes, the letter and a diary.

Anna asked as they approached the car, "Do you think they had anything to do with it?"

"Not sure. Did you notice how strict and old-fashioned they were? Having said that,I think it's highly unlikely he could have committed the first crime. But with the second victim having stayed here I have even more reason to check his alibi."

"And the sisterand the mother? Surely you don't suspect them?"

"Too numb. Too shaken." She opened the boot.

"We'll need to question Becca Fisher about how many women she had staying who look like that and have a boy with them."

Ellie almost nodded as she placed the evidence bags inside. "No need. Uniform already did that legwork when Luiz Gotleib was killed. The descritpion matches the Tess Hardy. Ben Hardy is the only boy that has stayed at the Traders' since last summer that doesn't have a brother. The Wallace family arrived before the Gotleibs, so it could only be Ben they were talking about. But I want Becca called in to record a statement."

"DS Miller?"

Ellie stopped, refusing to look the way of the speaker. Her face could not hide the disgust or frustration she felt rising like dough filmed and played faster. Ellie closed the boot, turned and folded her arms. "Miss. Karen White. Come to darken our town again? I thought we'd seen the last of you after Danny's memorial."

"Another murder in Broadchurch, another potential failure for DI Hardy. And this one dumped in your garden. With his track record in solving murders, I'm surprised you haven't refused to work with him, by now."

Anna stiffened, but Ellie made no reaction at all, which meant she was about to punch someone.

Karen failed to notice the warning sign. She simply ploughed straight on. "This time, he's the prime suspect and yet he's the officer-in-charge. And he has a new wife in town. Better warn her not to trust him. He has a history of cheating and leaving unwanted children behind."

"Typical of a reporter to get her facts twisted after dreaming them up. In the cold light of day, you're still full of it. If I didn't know better, I'd say the author of that little collection was high on something."

Karen frowned, frustrated that Miller wasn't reacting as she'd expected her to. She'd planned on anger and a sense of betrayal at the very least. She had planned to act on that, but now she felt deflated. "Sandbrook wasn't his first failure, by the way," she offered. "There was Leatherhead before that."

Ellie kept silent.

"Believe in him if you dare. You'll only drag yourself down." With that volley Karen walked off, acting like she had won a victory.

Ellie just remained still, expressionless.

Anna looked back and forth. "I take it you didn't believe a word of that."

"It's as much what she didn't say as how she said what she did," Ellie explained. "I know my husband is innocent, and he's not the officer-in-charge. I am. Karen White knows nothing. She made it up."

"What about the cheating and leaving kids behind?"

"He didn't cheat on Tess. She cheated on him. As for leaving children behind; he had no choice. Tess threw him out and he was sleeping rough. He didn't want to put his daughter through that. Besides, I know things about Sandbrook that Karen White couldn't possibly have access to."

"How?"

"Let's just say I had some time on my hands when my now husband and I weren't talking. I wanted to know the truth. There are things about the Sandbrook investigation that the first Mrs. Hardy doesn't want to _ever_ come out about the case. If Alec hadn't been so worried about Daisy's reaction I think Tess might have lost her job. She can't admit that to the Press, so she's turned the story around to blame him."

"Yeah?"

"I've seen DI Hardy's work history." She looked at Anna with a hint of a smug smile. "According to his records, he never worked in Leatherhead. Never even set foot there. That's why he's always been confused about why Karen has had it in for him. And now I know why."

Broome's eyes widened. "Why don't you say anything? You have the proof."

"Oh, I'm waiting for the right moment. She wouldn't have believed me anyway. Might even think it was forged. Or that there was something about it that can't be put on record. You heard her. She's convinced I needed 'pointers on the man you think you know', like she's rubbing it in that I didn't see Joe as a killer, and have poor judgment where men are concerned." Her eyes narrowed as she looked back at the path Karen had taken. "I'm suspecting she thinks she can play Tess and me off each other, but I'm not playing games with anyone. I'm only going to deal with that woman as far as the investigation requires, and maybe I can also ensure my husband can finally see his daughter again. Besides, I suspect that Tess has her own agenda in talking with Karen, who has no idea she's being used thanks to her own biases."

Ellie took a deep breath and walked to the driver's door. As Broome went to the passenger door, she added, "I have too much on my plate to properly investigate Karen's claims, but I know two people who can. They'll gladly find out the truth for me because they can make the time to go wherever the evidence leads out of town, and they each have motivation to see what Karen has got wrong.

As they belted up, Ellie looked again at her temporary partner. "But believe me, Anna. I'm going to _relish_ the moment when I can expose Karen White for incompetence and lack of integrity."

Broome nodded and smiled. "I have little use for reporters, and that one did trigger too many suspicious thoughts. If I can help knock her down to size, it'll be a pleasure."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	21. Episode 3, Part 6

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Three, Part Six: <strong>**Sanctuary of the Mind**

"What am I doing here?"

The whisper floated away from Hardy's mouth as he stared at the church doors. He had not set foot in here in months. He only came for funerals, and three stuck out in his mind: Danny Latimer's, Jack Marshall's and LIl Henshaw, Maggie's long-time partner. He could not remember the last time he had gone in to pray in any place of worship, or even done so in his own home. It had not seemed fitting or necessary. Even for his own health or when he and Ellie had broken up.

But none of those times seemed like he was truly going to lose everything. Oh, some might claim he had been in the position of losing everything before. But the thing was that he had thought he had already lost everything that mattered: Daisy; Tess to another man. What was his health if he had no access to his precious daughter?

Even when he had been near death during the Latimer case he had not prayed. Although he had come close to it when he thought that he would not be able to solve it before he was medicaled out. But it had not been necessary. Just when he was about to give up hope an answer came that began to shed light on everything.

Even when Ellie had kicked him out because she thought he had lied to her about the vasectomy he did not pray. He thought he had no right. How could he when he had no real claim to her children? It had not even occurred to him that his impetus for taking the job as permanent DI was seeing if Ellie had kept the pregnancy. Not until he saw the proof, the day she had left on maternity leave, did he have something to live for again. He had almost thanked god then for whatever made him turn up a day earlier than planned.

It helped that there were two boys who needed someone to call Dad, and already thought of him as such. And his twins were his joy. But what his heart was missing, was Daisy.

And it was now, for her, that he came here. For any kind of guidance. He really was outat sea, and needed some idea of how to spot an anchor.

"DI Hardy?"

He started at the sound of Reverend Coates' voice, even though he knew the man was there. Where else would a vicar who had no family be?

Hardy cleared his throat. "Do you have time to talk?"

Coates stared at him with widening eyes.

Within moments however they were sitting in the Vestry. Coates had set the tea to brew, and was pulling out mugs for them to use.

"I must say I was not expecting you," Coates opened the conversation as he waited. "You haven't been the type to come."

"I thought you kept your door open to the community."

"And it is. Even to those I'm not sure will seek meor God. We've only spoken when necessary or when you thought you had to investigate me."

"Don't tell me you hold that against me."

"No. You had a job to do, and it's not my place to tell you how to do it. I lack the stomach to seek out the criminals of society, and it never would have occurred to me to think Joe Miller was capable." He exhaled on a humourless laugh. "What does that say about my ability to look into someone's heart?"

"How can anyone see into another's heart?"

"Sometimes you can. Sometimes your instincts fail you. But we are only human." The tea was ready, and he poured it as he added, "And I suspect that it is a matter of the heart that brings you here."

Hardy sighed heavily, and pursed his lips as he sought the words to express himself.

Coates was willing to wait. He had been practicing for such things for years.

Finally Alec decided on an opening. "What do you know about what's going on?"

Although he had made no judgments or guesses about what was on the DI's mind, Coates was still startled by the beginning. "Um... I know there are two dead girls, and there is talk that you might be involved on the wrong side of things. Beyond thatgossip, there is probably worse gossip."

"A girl was murdered and dumped on my doorstep. There was evidence found at the scene that implicates me, even though I have an alibi. And the second one; I was only taken off the case a couple of hours ago. Gossip travels fast. I was there when the girl died, watched the paramedics frantically trying to save her. She reminded me of someonemy daughter spent _hours _with as a little girl. So much happened in those years that it was all I could do to remember the important things, the good things. And I was confronted by my ex-wife this morning, accusing me of things and people got the wrong idea. So I was pulled from that case as well. I just know both the cases are connected. Even without the suggestion that she may be a girl my daughter knew. So, now my name is being dragged through the mud. People still hate me for the Latimer case. One of them; I don't even know what I did to anger her because I could swear I never met her before Sandbrook, but she acts like she knows me from elsewhere."

"That reporter, Karen White?"

"Yeah. She is out for my blood. I wish I knew what she accuses me of. Then there's my ex who keeps telling her son I'm his father when a paternity test says otherwise, and who keeps me from contacting our daughter. Our daughter who the town psychic is convinced is in danger but he can't tell me who from. Something is wrong, but I can't work out what. Others have commented on the look in her eyes, She's scared of something, and I'm not sure it's becauseof girls her age being murdered. Then there's my ex's lover, who would plainly love to see me go to jail when all I can think of as a crime I committed is being with Tess first. And now Ellie won't tell me anything about the cases. I don't even know if she thinks I'm guilty!"

The anger burst, driving Hardy out of his chair, overturning it. The force hit the table, knocking the tea over and shattering a mug.

Coates barely reacted. He had seen Beth in a storm of emotions and had handled it. Although who knew what the DI could do when he was truly angry.

Hardy sighed and rubbed his face. "God, I'm practically proving my own point!"

"Which one?"

"That anyone is capable of anything if driven far enough."

Coates looked at the man before him, taking in the dark lines of exhaustion written all over his face. There was a weight on his shoulders that had not been there during the Latimer case, and the emotions were churning much closer to the surface. Not that any of that was not completely understandable.

He cleared his throat. "Let's start with something simple then. If the truth comes out, it will prove that you had nothing to do with either girl's death, right?"

Hardy stood the chair on its feet and sagged into it. "Yes."

"Then, look at this another way. Walk me through how police procedure works when one of their own is suspected."

"What?"

"Let's think in hypothetical terms, an imaginary case to put some emotional distance between us and the real situation. Can you do that?"

Hardy sighed. "Yeah."

"So... what are the reasons a police officer could be pulled from a case?"

He ticked them off on his fingers. "The crime happened to them or to someone close to them. They know the victim too well. They know a prime suspect too well. They are a suspect. Any and all of the above that raises questions about their objectivity."

"So how doesthe policeprotect itself and the case from accusations that could hurt either or both?"

"The officer in question is supposed to be kept away from the investigation, and the others aren't supposed to talk to them about it."

"Even if they believe the officer is innocent?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. If Ellie isn't talking to you then perhaps she's trying to clear your name while working by the book. To protect you."

"She let SOCO into our home. They looked through my things."

"But in any investigation don't you have to make sure they don't overlook anything?"

Hardy paused. "Yes."

"Then maybe she is forcing herself to face what has to be an impossible situation first so she can focus on what the evidence really says. Is it possible that she had acted this way because she wants you to be able to come back to the job with your name cleared? By confronting head on the idea that you could have done either or both of the murders she is ensuring that all possible avenues are looked at? What would you have done if you have been in her place?"

He thought for a long moment, and then sagged. "The same. I'm being unfair to her, aren't I?"

"You're a man who's been through a lot. It's hard to bear the thought that someone close to us might not trust us. I'm not saying I blame you for reacting this way, but what good does it do you or your family?"

Hardy blanched. "Oh, God. The children. Tom was frightened out of his mind when I argued with Ellie the other night and threatened to leave and take the twins."

"So, you can'taccept that the cases are out of your hands, or that there is no way can you influence the case, and yet you accept that you can influence other things surrounding you because of the stress your job is causing? Can you ease Tom's fears?"

"Of course."

"Then look for what parts of your life you can do something about. Don't let anyone beat you down with these accusations."

"It's hard to go into town right now. I wasn't popular to begin with, and I think I have fewer friends now."

"May I suggest something?"

"What?"

"Have you talked with Beth and Mark?"

He slowly shook his head.

"I talked a lot with them after Mark confessed his infidelity. They spent many hours in here and at home rebuilding the trust. They know what it's like to have your life turned upside down by crime. Did you know, Mark defended you to one of the town?"

Hardy blinked.

Coates nodded. "I witnessed it. Beth also supported you. She told me earlier what had happened on the said she couldn't believe that you would hurt a child, let alone kill one. They might not have shown it two years ago, but you earned their loyalty. Talk to them. The town might gossip, but people are reluctant to go against you in light of how much time was wasted last time. And I've heard Jack Marshall's name mentioned. No one wants to drive another innocent that far. People have been shunning Karen White, by refusing to talk to her. They will help you. All you need to do is ask."

Alex spent a long moment sitting there. Finally he exhaled slowly. "Sorry about your mug."

Coates shrugged. "I expect a few tempers to be lost here, so I buy in bulk. You're forgiven."

Somehow it seemed funny to Alec, and he chuckled.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	22. Episode 3, Part 7

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Three, Chapter Seven: <strong>**Family Outing**

Tess put their bags on the bed and sighed with relief. "Well, at least we got the same room as we had before," she noted.

"Yeah, that's a stroke of luck. That other place was nice, but the shared bathroom was going to get on my wick at some point."

Daisy sat on the single bed by the window and winced horribly. "Mum, my belly's hurting."

"Didn't you take your tablets when you went back for them?"

"Yeah, I did," Daisy replied. "But I think it's something else. I think I'm coming on," she said quietly.

Tess made a show of sympathy, but her cycles had never bothered her. "Did you bring some things?"

"No, I wasn't expecting it. So I only brought a small pack."

Tess got up. "I'll have to go to the chemist."

"I'll go," Daisy said. "Did you bring the Paracetamol?"

"Yeah, I've got plenty of that. Will you be all right?"

Daisy nodded, holding her hand out for two tablets. "Yeah, I'm used to it now."

"What are you two on about?" Bruce put in. "Daisy, you are not going anywhere."

"Stop it, Bruce. She needs to go to the chemist before it shuts."

"For what?" he demanded. "Daisy! You take one step out that door and so help you!"

"I am not talking about personal things with you. I wouldn't even talk about them to my dad!" she stormed. She closed the door behind her and was gone.

"For goodness sake, Bruce! What is with you today?" Tess asked.

"I don't like you and her keeping secrets from me!"

Tess sighed heavily. "It's not a secret! All women go through it. She's a child. She's too embarrassed to talk about it in front of you. Do you have to make a scene about everything?"

For once, Bruce backed down. "Why didn't you just say she was on her period?"

"Bruce! You son is in the room. He shouldn't have to hear about it at his age," she reminded him tartly. "Now, let's get unpacked and head back to the beach. I want to catch a few more rays before we head to the arcades. I promised Ben I'd get that Minion toy from the grabber machine."

"Yey!" Ben crowed, bouncing on his feet.

/=/=/=/=/

"Why aren't we going straight home? Why are we here in the park?"

Hardy was not surprised by Tom's question. This was a break from their routine. He looked away from watching Fred playing, showing off for the twins seated in the double pushchair. Fredwas disappointed that his siblings were still unable to join him. Ellie had muttered about how much trickier their lives would be once the twins started walking, but Hardy had hopes that Fred's energy would be a good guide to follow.

He shrugged. "Since I'm supposed to be staying away from the investigation and it's leaving your mum with no time on her hands, I thought I should make it up to you for the other night."

Tom turned his gaze from watching his brother to looking at his dad where he saton the bench. He took in the slumped posture and extra tension in the frame of the man he had adopted in his heart, long before the formal adoption that had given Tom the right to carry the same name. "You mean when you and Mum argued?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have let my fears out like that."

"You're afraid? You investigate murders and hate crimes. You've seen dead bodies. You ask questions that make most people I know turn red. I've never known you to be afraid of anything."

Hardy had to give him a pointed look.

Tom shuddered. "I try to not think about you in hospital. Or that girl I found."

He cringed. "I'd like to forget that, too. Mostly because of the look in your eyes when you saw us arguing."

"Mum says you're happier now you're not fighting for your life. She says you're taking better care of yourself now that you have us." Tom sighed. "So what's changed? Are you leaving us?"

"No." He put a hand on his boy's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Despite what I said I'm not going anywhere. I need you to know that."

"But why did you say it?"

Hardy lowered his hand and looked over at Fred's antics. He was making the twins laugh, which was for once failing to make a happy expression crack his own face.

"If you haven't noticed, I hate when things are completely out of my control. My freedom is hanging in the balance even though I didn't do anything, my reputation is in worse shape than when I was working Danny's murder, and my job is on the line.I don't know what my own wife thinks about my innocence. Can you imagine what that's like?"

Tom's eyes widened as his body straightened. "No."

"Good. I don't want you to ever know that feeling. I've got those feelings right now, and I would never wish them on anyone. Even my own worst enemy."

Tom grew thoughtful. "I'd be as angry as you sounded that nightif I thought I wasn't trusted by my own family. I mean, haven't you earned Mum's trust? You were there when no one else could really help."

"That's what I thought. And I convinced myself I was doing right thing. I still believe that. It's everything else getting in the way. Reverend Coates set me right."

He wanted to ask about something else, but the last part made Tom snort in amusement. "_You_ spoke to _Paul_?"

Hardy managed a tiny smile. "I know. I know. Hell must be freezing over if _I'm_ looking to the church for guidance."

He could only joke about that because they had talked about beliefs, from all sorts of places, and why he hardly went. Tom was a smart boy who deserved honest answers that would broaden his thinking, and he was meeting the challenge. He would become a fine young man.

Tom giggled for a moment. "Does every part of the world think Hell is a hot place?"

"No. In Iceland, they think Heaven is below ground, where it's warm. Some cultures assume Hell was a freezing place. It's why there are paintings of blue devils. People everywherealways think Hell is the exact thing we can't stand any more of."

Tom made a thoughtful noise, and then sobered after several moments. "So what did you talk to Paulabout? Were you really so desperate that talking to a priest seemed like a good idea?"

"Since when were you old enough to be so cynical?" Hardy asked rhetorically. He sighed heavily. "When a man feels completely lost he's open to things he would otherwise reject. And while it might not look like it I do respect the man, which I hope you do now."

It was the first time in well over a year that Tom's destroying his computer and threatening the Reverend if he turned it in to the police came up in any conversation. The last time had been when Hardy helped him set up his newer machine, with a joking caution about not trying to cover anything up this time. He had not spoken of it since because he felt that Tom had learned his lesson and it did not need to be brought up again.

Tom cringed. "I apologised to him and did a penance of his choosing."

Hardy was intrigued. "What did he make you do?"

"I had to help the church wardens deliver the parish magazines dressed in a supplicant's alb, which I hated, until I accepted that I should've told the police immediately what I knew. I told mum not to tell you, because I was so embarrassed.I won't do it again."

"I know. With luck, there won't be anything like that happening again. But I digressed, didn't I?"

"Yeah. We were talking about you talking to Paul."

Hardy took a deep breath. "He reminded me of things that as a seasoned investigator I should have remembered. Been doing this so long I'm a little embarrassed that I had to be reminded that your mum is just doing her job. As much as it stings to be kept out of the loop and how much I hate feeling like I can't do anything to defend myself, I have to accept that all I can do is act on my innocence. I can't let my family suffer for it. I have to let her prove that I'm innocent and couldn't have committed either crime. Despite our legal system assuming innocence until proven guilty, people still spread rumours. So while I'm effectively off-duty until further notice, your mum will catch the killer or killers andI'll focus on my family. If nothing else, I can ease some of your mum's burdens by making sure you're allfed, healthy and happy. She's going to be working late hours for awhile. I can only hope this will be solved faster than Danny's casewas."

It was impossible to escape the comparisons to Danny. Not when two years had barely passed. "Mum's motivated."

He nodded. "Coates did suggest that she may be ensuring that she can prove enough to get me back in. But I know she won't risk the case's future in court. So... I'm sorry, Tom. You'll have to put up with me taking you to the park. And sorry for scaring you with words I never should've said."

Tom smiled supportively. "As long as you're not going anywhere, you're forgiven. Just don't ever leave us," he said, his voice breaking on the end.

Hardy felt his heart constrict at the hint of tears in his eldest son's eyes. "Eh, come here."

There were things a teenager was not supposed to do in public, especially a boy. Showing affection toward or getting affection from a parent was often seen as childish and girly. But Tom had seen what could come of acting according to what was expected. If he had done that he would not have someone to call Dad. And with life feeling so uncertain until now, there was no thought to his moving in for a big hug.

Knowing that someone unconditionally believed in him allowed Hardy to feel like some of the tension that had been building since Tom had found the body was melting away. As depraved as he knew people could be, there was proofthat the human spirit was also capable of incredible acts of kindness. Including loving someone as if they had always been part of the family.

It made him curious. "How were you able to take a chance on me so soon after you found out about... your father?"

It had been tricky figuring out how to speak about the man who Tom had called his dad for his whole life until it was torn apart by the news that his own father had killed his best friend. There were some things that seemed a matter of showing respect for traditions, and it seemed a little odd to encourage Tom to refer to Joe by his given name. Although Hardy supposed that given enough time it might happen.

Tom took a deep breath while he recovered the ability to speak. "I never said anything, but there as a distance between us for a while. He and Mum tried to hide that there was trouble between them, but I knew something was wrong. He resented Mum having Fred, resented having to give up his job. I'd known since the Christmas before Danny died that there were things he wasn't telling us, but I didn't want to thinkabout it. I didn't know he was going to Danny or that they were... doing things. Itnever occurred to me that he could..."

Hardy tightened the hug for just a moment. "I know. No kid wants to think that."

"I guess I wanted someone to look up to. And you never once raised your voice at me, didn't let me get away with lying to you. He had let me get away with things because he wasn't paying enough attention. It felt like he didn't care enough. You? You care a lot, though you don't always show it. I could feel that when you started looking out for us, like compensating for missing Daisy, but in a good way. And... I guess it was easy to make the comparisons. He never brought me and Fred to the park, unless he'd broken something and wanted us to keep quiet about it. Letting you in was easy, like I was waiting for my real dad to come along. And it felt like I didn't have to be as strong for Fred or Mum whenever you were around."

That truth made Hardy want to cry. His heart went out to him. He had assumed that he had been the lucky one in this relationship. Now, he had to wonder.

A thought hit Tom and he drew back to see the reaction. "Was it easy to let us in? I mean, you already had a family."

The reminder made Hardy close his eyes briefly to hide the flash of emotion that he knew would have been spotted in an instant. "By the time I met your mum,I had been denied the chance to be a dad for nearly three years. I've tried to speak to Daisy so many times, and only got her voice mail. I've wondered why. I'm worried that she felt betrayed when her mother and I divorced, when I had to move away. I didn't trust the post because I thought that her mother would hide or even burn any letters I sent before Daisy could get them. Your mum once noted that it seemed like I needed someone to be a dad to. I wasn't looking to take over the role, but it kept being open, someone needed to look out for you three, and I could tell you needed someone. It was easy, like you said. But easy doesn't make it any less important."

Tom sniffled. "Thanks, Dad. For being you."

Hardy smiled. "Same to you, Tom."

"Daddy, watch me!" cried Fred from the skateboard. He was lying on his belly pushing himself along. "Tom, Harry, Cattin, watch me!"

Tom straightened. "After he's exhausted, can I play with my skateboard?"

"Going to show off to anyone?"

"Not today. I just want to practice. Just make my dad proud."

Hardy smiled. He already was, he thought silentlyas they got up. He pushed the pushchair to let the toddler show off on the otherwise deserted skate ramps. The break was welcome. Who knew how much time they would have before something else happened in Broadchurch? All they could do was hold tight to what they had andknew, and maybe pray for answers.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	23. Episode 3, Part 8

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Three, Part Eight: Call to Action<strong>

As soon as Ellie got back to her desk she was on her mobile. She was impatiently waiting for an answer, tapping her foot while standing. "Come on."

"Hello?"

"Maggie? It's Ellie.I needed to give you a warning. Karen White's back in town."

"I already know."

"What?"

"She's been here, trying to get a place to work from again. This time she can piss in from the outside all she wants. I'm not letting her in on anything we have, and neither is Olly."

Ellie remembered Olly's awkward confession about why he was writing the book. He had to admit to the fling with Karen, which had left him with a sour taste in his memory, and how she got him to write the article on Jack Marshall. It made Ellie remark, 'Wonder how many times she's got some bloke to write for her to save herself the trouble?'

Hardy had remained silent, but had forgiven him. Mrs. Marshall never would. He had told Olly that he, too, had made big mistakes where women were concerned. At least he'd got a daughter out of it. But Olly had caused the police in general a huge nad unnecessary headache.

She took a deep breath. "Well, I wanted you to know that she's out for blood. Specifically my husband's."

At her desk, Maggie groaned and lowered her forehead to her free palm. "Ellie, I want you to know that Olly and I are looking into why she's so fixated on his being a terrible policeman. If there's anything else you need investigating but lack the time or manpower to do, I have more than a few people on staff who would gladly help. Even Beth offered."

Ellie's eyes widened. "Beth? But she barely speaks to me."

"I think that bridge is slowly being mended."

"Oh. Well, that's good."

"So, is there anything?"

She sat down and lowered her voice. "I'm not sure yet, but I may need you to look up things in Sandbrook that the police there may not have on record."

"Just tell me what you need. I have sources who can find practically anything."

"What if I need someone to go to Sandbrook? Someone not connected to the police? What I needed to see what the Press wrote on Alec and what connects him to Karen White?"

Maggie thought about that for a moment. "Of course. I'd like to bring Olly, if that's ok? Might be a truck-load to bring back on her alone."

"Yeah, I think his mum will be okay without him. We're certainly going to keep her busy helping us."

"She'll be one of those here willing to help. Even if she's filling in to support the regular work so the others can manage the extra work for this."

"I'll let you know when I know what I need. I have to check some leads, and have a short talk with my husband."

"I'll be here."

They hung up and Ellie noticed someone approaching. "BobDaniels, you have something?"

"Yeah, notes from calls taken todayand a few statements given downstairs. Various locals and some tourists reported two different confrontations that happened on the Promenade. Both involving the DI."

Ellie rubbed her eyes. "_Two_ confrontations?This week keeps getting better. Are the statements consistent for each incident?"

"Well, I'm thinking they overheard bits and pieces. The details seem to overlap. We're hoping that more come forward who actually heard the whole thing."

"Who was our DI supposedly confronting?"

"The first was apparently... his ex-wife."

Ellie started. "She's _in town_?!"

"Given the things said, it has to be her. Her, a man and a boy. We have one caller who said the boy called the DI 'Daddy'. That didn't please any of the three adults involved, or so we've been told."

"Did he confront her or she confront him?"

"According to at least three witnesses, the woman started it. They all said she and the man she was with were arguing before the Di had even arrived. One said they saw the woman's son run up to DI Hardy and hug his leg and saw the woman run after him. Someone else said that the woman escalated things. Others have said that the man with her was abusive. I had four people who have come forward to say DI Hardy was threatened."

"Threatened?"

"Yeah, according to them the woman threatened to go to the police and have him arrested for child abduction and molesting."

"For having his leg hugged?" Ellie spoke incredulously. "God, if that's child molesting every parent would be in prison! What happened next?"

"Er, Hardy threw his chips in the bin and walked away. The witness said h would have stayed to find out more, but he had to leave for an appointment."

"Has the Super seen these?"

"I'm on my way up there now. And given how the DI left the station shortly after he got back from this confrontation and Frank said he saw him hand a big pile of papers from his desk to the Super, I think he's been removed from the second case."

Ellie's eyes widened. "Why?"

"No one knows. The door was closed."

"Miller!" called out the Chief Super. "Come in a moment."

Ellie did not need to be told twice. She grabbed the statements from Bob andwas up in an instant and inside the office.

Although she nearly stumbled as she passed the DI's office.

The Chief Super closed the door as soon as Ellie was inside. "You are now in charge of both murder investigations."

"I just heard. On what grounds was DI Hardy removed from the Wallace case?"

"The second victim has been ID'd as Luiz Gotleib, and we're certain she has some link with Sarah Wallace. She may even be the girl in the photo with Daisy Hardy."

"Have you confirmed this with the family?"

"We didn't know this until after Hardy had interviewed them. His notes did say he asked if they recalled their daughter's friends once they mentioned living in England for a time, but the family couldn't recall ever visiting Sandbrook. They'll need to be interviewed again tomorrow."

Pursing her lips a moment, Ellie finally nodded. "I'llsee to it. I assume you'll be eventually interviewing the DI yourself?"

"Soon. I want to see what SOCO discovers about some of the evidence first. Although I will have to ask him soon what was said between him and Karen White today."

"She confronted him?!" Poor Alec, she thought silently. She suddenly remembered the sheets in her hands. "Statements for the confrontation between Hardy and his ex. Uniform were bringing them up."

Elaine read them carefully and laid them all out side by side, like a herringbone pattern. "Hmm. Those who phoned in match those who came in. That's always a good start. Even the locals we know are not fans of Hardy's remarked that the woman went from his throat, in a verbal sense I hope. A few were amazed he didn't lash out at her. I'm more surprised he didn't raise his voice."

Ellie groaned. Hardy had a bit of a loud boom when provoked. "This is the last thing we need, her sticking her oar in our business."

"You know her?"

"From the descriptions, I think I can safely identify her as the ex Mrs. Hardy."

"Has Hardy mentioned seeing Karen White?"

"No. But the fact that she's here makes me uneasy. I bet it won't be long before she writes another article to raise hell with the investigations, and all in the name of finding the truth."

"I read what she wrote about Jack Marshall, DS. I'm not fond of Miss. White's work either, but until she says something that we can prove is slander, libel or deliberately interfering with the current cases our hands are tied."

"Yes. Sir."

"Do you have anything for me?"

"Um, we turned in Sarah Wallace's things from the hotel to SOCO. We left them to examine a diary and a letter from a friend. The family was less than helpful, too busy citing a dislike for the fact that their daughter was gay, but they were in their room watching television when Sarah went out. They thought she'd come in later when they were asleep and left before they woke. Apparently she likes to explore. I'm hoping her phone gives us leads on her plans and who might have known about them. Maybe it'll lead to her killer. I should tell you; I had my own confrontation with Karen White. She cornered us outside the hotel. Wanted to tell me things she thought I didn't know about the man I married."

"And were they?"

She snorted. "She said he'd cheated on Tess. She said his kids were unwanted and were abandoned. She accused him of being a prime suspect in a case he was officer-in-charge on. She said Sandbrook wasn't the first murder case he'd failed. She said he failed an earlier investigation in Leatherhead. Everything she said was either a lie or what I have good reason to believe is a misunderstanding at the very least."

The Super's attention was claimed. "If she makes any of these wildly unfounded and grossly false statements public, it may be enough for him to sue her. The Force would back him even if he filed while the investigations are ongoing, in light of her previous actions."

"Glad to know that."

"However," she cautioned. "Our focus is on the inquiry. Don't let her derail this one like she did the last one."

"No, sir."

"Carry on."

Ellie exited, but detoured to Hardy's office. She knocked.

He looked up from his computer screen with wary eyes. He had been investigating a case of disappearing rabbits. Boring stuff, but he had had some interesting leads to follow, which would now be handed over to another officer. It was the last case to be emptied from his desk. He even had to wear a visitor's tag to get in; how noticed her eying him in concern, and sighed heavily. He waved her in and waited for her to enter and close the door. "I dropped the kids off at Lucy's, just came in to clear my desk." He could tell she knew why, but there was something else on her mind. "What now?"

"I heard you ran into a woman who doesn't like youand then had a slanging match with her new man. What happened?"

"I'm sure you've heard about it from witnesses, whether they overheard everything or not."

"I want to hear your side of this."

Hardy leaned back in his chair, removing his glasses and rubbing his face. "I ran into Tess by accident, or rather her son ran into me deliberately. I _did_ see her the other day. Her son thinks I'm his dad, she thinks I'm following them about and her boyfriend told me to stay away from Daisy. On the way back Karen ambushed me on Quayside Road, on my way back to the station."

"_DI Hardy, a pleasure."_

_Hardy stopped dead in his tracks, turned and stared at her. "Wish I could say the same."_

"_Perhaps we can go somewhere for a coffee."_

"_With your track record with men, no thank you."_

_Karen squirked a smirk. "You mean Olly. I have no interest in him. I'm more interested in you."_

"_Well, your visit to Broadchurch is wasted journey. I'm not interested."_

"_You'll be singing a different tune when I write the entire expose on you for the Paper."_

"_You've already done that."_

"_That was just Sandbrook. Next time I'll print all of it. The entirety of your career in every sordid detail."_

"_I don't know what you're talking about."_

"_Perhaps reading my article will jog your memory," she suggested coldly. "I just need a name."_

"_What name?"_

"_The name of the woman you had an affair with. But, no matter. I'll find it."_

_Hardy watched her walk back the way she had come and he felt an icy tingle creep up his spine. He felt like shouting after. There was no affair, after all. But he knew better than that. In the eyes of the Press, a denial was a confession._

Ellie exhaled loudly. "You've had an eventful day."

"And it's been topped by orders pulling me from this case. I'm just finishing re-allocating my caseload, because I've had to hand in my warrant."

Ellie almost stopped a cry. This was what she had hoped to avoid. She'd proven he was innocent. Hadn't she?

"No one believes I'm innocent. And no believes the two murders are connected. The more I try, the more I seen to incriminate myself. It feels like no one fighting my corner."

"I do," she managed. "The Super has agreed that the cases are connected, and I suppose they fear being accused of improper conduct. But... they took your warrant?!" Ellie found it hard to breathe. "I don't like it any more than you do, but I will do my best, Alec. I am going to kick up hell over this. Why don't you go home?"

"I'm finished here," he replied. He silently hoped that didn't mean forever. He clicked send and shut the computer off. "What time will you be home...? Ellie-"

"You have an appointment at the hospital in the morning. Please. Try to relax for it. The doctors need an accurate assessment of your health, and I think the children will do more to calm you than anything elsecan. Okay?"

He all but pouted, but slowly exhaled loudly. "Fine."

Ellie half wished he had spoken with a bit more fight in him. Even though she did not want another argument. This was unnatural.

/=/=/=/=/

Chloe was walking home from work, but she was going to see Dean first. Her parents knew she liked to do that, and it had helped that he had proved reliable after Danny died. She still had her escape room, which she hardly needed, but still enjoyed.

But with a girl her age murdered, two if she believed the rumours, it called out to her. She just had the feeling that her parents were going to start insisting she come straight home, which as a teenager, she bristled over.

Not that she was not paying careful attention as she walked. It just seemed smart.

On her walk toward the promenade she noticed a girl walking by herself and staring out into the distance, carrying a chemist's bag. As Chloeapproached she smiled as she recognised her. "Hi, Daisy."

Daisy turned and slowly smiled. "Hi, Chloe."

"How's today?"

"A bit shaky. You know, with... everything happening."

Chloe nodded, shivering. "I know. My parents want to know where I am at all times."

Daisy looked thoughtful. "Do they check your phone?"

"No. They just text and call to check on me. Which reminds me, we should exchange numbers. So we can schedule time together."

A smile broke again. "Okay." She drew out her phone. "My mom takes it off me regularly, so I'll have to save your name under something she can't spell."

Chloe watched as Daisy typed "chrysanthemum" into the name. "Why hide it?"

"She's... I don't know how to say it. So I know you sent it, you need to type 'chrysanthemum' into every message, okay?"

Chloe's sense of the girl's loneliness and isolation strengthened, along with the sense that she seemed familiar. It was more than her looks. Her expressions and gestures were strengthening the sense. She decided to check on one detail. Which she did as soon as a text came:

'Hi, it's Daisy. Chrysanthemum.'

"Well, I don't have to worry about my parents checking, so I'll put you under your name." She hurriedly added her to her Contacts. "What's your last name?"

The girl blushed a little. "Oops. Sorry. Hardy."

A gasp escaped Chloe's lips. Hardy?! Her eyes scanned her new friend more, and her mouth dropped.

Daisy's eyes widened and a light grew in them. "Do you know someone called Alec Hardy? He's a policeman, plain clothes."

"Um... yeah."

"Oh, thank god! Does he live here?"

"Yeah, not far from here."

"I knew he lived here, but I have no way of finding him." She looked around, like she was afraid of being watched. "Can you help me?"

The words came out in an enormous rush, like she did not want anyone to know about her request.

Chloe slowly nodded, now even more worried. "You're his daughter. You haven't spoken to him?"

Daisy shook her head, a huge heaviness falling across her face. "I've tried writing to him, but I don't think any of my letters have got past my front door, let alone any he might've sent. My mum confiscated the phone he gave me, along with practically everything else. I need to talk to him, but I don't know where he is beyond that he moved here. And I only know that because I heard my mum talking about it."

"He's the DI at the police station," Chloe confirmed.

Daisy managed a tiny smile. "Oh, good. He got a job. I was worried about him." She glanced towards the family huddled not far away on the sand. "I probably won't get much time. Will you tell me what you know about him?"

Chloe nodded and walked with her.

/=/=/=/=/

"He's remarried?"

Sitting next to her on a nearby bench, Chloe nodded. "Five weeks ago."

Daisy wrung her hands. "Is she good to him?"

"They're good for each other. She was married before, but... her first husband... he killed my little brother."

"What?!" Daisy cried. "Oh, that's awful."

Chloe nodded, sniffling. "Danny was eleven. This was almost two years ago. It took weeks before DI Hardy figured out who'd done it. Mr. Miller was only willing to confess to him. DS Miller; she had two sons with him."

"My dad married a copper? That's a bit surprising... but that poor woman. So her ex ruined two families." Daisy reached out a hand with compassion beyond her years. "I'm so sorry."

Accepting it, Chloe took a deep breath. "It was rough on everyone, not just us. Broadchurch is really small and everyone knows everyone."

Daisy cleared her throat. "So... let me see if I understood correctly. My dad stayed around to look out for the DS and her kids... what's her name?"

"Yeah, though I don't think they were together back then. He just stayed because he had a job here. And her name's Ellie. She was my mum's best friend until they found out it was her ex who'd killed Danny. Ellie and your dad got together around Christmas. And then they shared a house. My dad said Hardy was her lodger before he got ill and had to leave Broadchurch."

"Okay. But he came back?"

Chloe nodded. Shehad already explained the timeline as she knew it. Gossip had filled in the rest, but she carefully kept that to herself. Everyone knew Hardy had shared the mortgage as a lodger and that he was ill with a bad heart and been hospitalised. It had been reported on the news about the Sandbroke case going back to court and everyone had assumed Hardy had left Broadchurch for good. Until he had suddenly appeared again several months later on Ellie's last day of work before she left to have her baby. Everyone had assumed it was Hardy's, though Ellie had resolutely said nothing to anyone about it. Even now, a year on.

"Was it a girl or a boy?" Daisy asked.

"Twins," Chloe replied, fairly amused. "Born at the police station. They thought they were only having one."

"And my dad adopted her sons?"

"Yeah, about four months ago, but I bet there's still room for you," Chloe suggested. "I've heard him talk about you. Looking back on it, he had this sadness around him when he first came here. It wasn't just whatever was making him ill. I bet if he hasn't spoken to you or had a letter from you that he misses you."

"Daisy!"

Chloe saw how her new friend stiffened at the woman's voice. Glancing in that direction she saw a woman whose features had some resemblance to Daisy, a boy who looked a lot like Daisy, and a man with a scowl on his face. She was right. They hadn't had long at all. Five minutes, at the most.

Daisy got to her feet. "We'll talk again later. I want to hear more about my dad," she whispered.

"I can get a message to him," Chloe promised her.

"See if he wants to hear from me first. My mum said he didn't." She raised her voice. "Nice to meet you. See you again sometime?"

"Bye, Daisy."

"Bye, Chloe."

With that Daisy hurried to meet up with the others, the adults giving Chloe examining looks before they started asking Daisy questions. Daisy shook her head, briefly touching the boy's hand and smiling at him.

Chloe met their gazes with a bewildered one of her own, and promptly walked in the opposite direction. There was something odd about that family. And the way Daisy had referred to the man as 'one extra'. Now she really wanted her safe room, and Dean's company.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	24. Episode 3, Part 9

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

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><p><strong>Episode Three, Part Nine: His Heart's Not In It<strong>

Mark opened the door to find Hardy standing on the threshold.

"Do you have a minute?"

Mark, thought confused, nodded and opened the door wider to let him in. He wondered if it was plumbing he needed. The bathroom and kitchen he'd installed was covered by a ten-year guarantee. But, surely Hardy would have phoned if it had been that. "Not a professional call, I take it?" he noted.

"Not really, no," Hardy admitted, standing like a loose end in the living room had had not changed since he had first set foot in it two years before. It felt as if time had not moved, that the family still lived in that moment, that hour - the day their lives had been shattered.

Though there was one difference, standing in the centre of the room, looking up at him with large round eyes. So, this was Christopher Latimer. He and Ellie had had little contact with the Latimers since those events. And it was obvious Beth still laid some of the blame for what happened at Ellie's feet. As he watched her pluck the boy up and back away with him, Hardy had to assume she had shifted a fair portion of it to him vicariously. No matter what Paul thought.

He said nothing. There would be healing; soon, he hoped, but he would not defend himself. And he knew Ellie wouldn't. She still cried at night. But he would spare them that, in case they held it against her.

"What can we do for you?" Mark asked.

"Mark?"

Mark held out a patient hand to Beth.

"I need some perspective, some clarity," Hardy began. "I found myself at the church, but didn't find it."

Mark held back a smirk. "If you didn't find it there, what makes you think you'll find it here?"

Hardy released a slow breath. Ouch. "I just... Well, Paul suggested you'd be the person to understand. Just in case you haven't heard the rumours. I've been removed from the murder investigation. I'm too close to one of the victims." He left it at that. "I have a daughter their age and one of the victims was her friend; a girl I've known since they were not much older than Christopher." Hardy noticed Beth tightening her grip on her son as if she thought Hardy was a threat, that he was here to take our son as he had, in a sense, taken Danner from her. "I understand what you think about me, what you feel about me," he told her. "But I'm not here as a policeman. I'm here as a parent, Beth. I'm facing the possibility that my daughter could be the next Danny Latimer," he explained.

"You're sharing case details with the public," Mark realised. "Isn't that against the police code of conduct or something?"

"Like I said, I'm not on the case," Hardy replied. "Been relieved of duty. It looks bad because one of them was found in my driveway, and even worse because the evidence points to me. I'm too close to it. My daughter's friends are being murdered and she could be next and I don't know what I'm supposed to feel or think or do. I'm a policeman, died in the wool, born, bred and raised a copper, but there's nothing in the training or the handbook for this. And I can't do anything to prevent it."

"Why not?" Beth asked flatly. "The police are supposed to help prevent crime, aren't they?"

"That's just it. Without proof, without an attack on my daughter, it's all just circumstantial supposition."

"I'd heard of one murder?" Mark frowned. "A girl at the you're talking like there's been more than one."

"Three girls are dead," Hardy replied. "One of them under suspicious circumstances. And I know I shouldn't be talking to you about it, but I believe I can trust you not to say anything. For what it's worth, neither of you are suspects."

"There's been no mention of it in the papers."

"No," Hardy shook his head. "After what happened with Danny's case we felt that it was best to keep a lid on it." He saw Mark nod in acceptance and agreement. "And I had a tip-off from a source that's been reliable in the past that my daughter could be next," he continued. "But I can't act on it. And I can't protect her. I can't even see her or speak to her."

"Why not?" Mark asked.

"Her mother, my ex. She blocked all contact. She took my daughter's phone and Daisy can only get to it when her mother isn't looking. If I could at least know she's all right, but I couldn't guarantee that the answers would be from Daisy."

"Where is she?" Beth asked.

"She's here, on holiday," Hardy explained. "Beyond that I'm just guessing. And I still can't get close enough to talk to her without my ex and her new partner getting between us."

"Are you asking for us to do it?" Beth wondered. "Because the answer would be no. I'm not getting involved."

"Beth," Mark glowered. "The man's asking for help, parent to parent. For god's sake if he had been asking us to do this to find Danny's killer sooner, I'd have thrown myself at it and so would you."

"I'll do it."

A voice from the bottom of the stairs cut in.

"Chloe?!"

"Mum!" Chloe countered. "I've met Daisy and she's scared. That man with her mum is threatening to harm her little brother. He hasn't done it, but that don't mean he won't. I know what that's like and I'm not going to stand by and do nothing," she said forthrightly. She turned to Hardy. "What do you need?"

Hardy released an unsteady breath. "I'd rather you talked about it with your parents. You're still under eighteen."

"You had Tom do that reconstruction for my brother. Now it's our turn to help you," Chloe countered.

Hardy glanced at Mark and Beth and could see a grudging agreement there, although more willingly from Mark. "I'm notasking you to put yourself in any danger."

"I've been texting Daisy," Chloe admitted.

"You already made contact?!"

"Yeah. Ever since we started talking at the Traders. Well, not the first time, the day that girl was killed in the car park, but the second time – as guests were being relocated – we talked more. I forgot to suggest exchanging numbers and to ask her last name until later, when we ran into each other down the Promenade round by the toilets the following day. When I couldn't hide that I recognised her last name, she figured out I knew you. She asked about you, said she knew you'd moved here but didn't know anything else."

"Her mother doesn't know that she's talking to you about that?" Hardy could not believe that.

"We've got a code word; chrysanthemum. Daisy says it's your favourite flower andher mum can't spell it."

Hardy almost laughed. "It's true. She's not good at spelling that." He paused. "You said you met by the toilets?"

"Yeah."

"That's why I didn't see her."

"You mean when your ex confronted you?"

He groaned through closed lips. "Is the story all over town now?"

"I'm not sure anyone knows the real version except you and her. But lots of people are talking about it."

Shaking his head, he returned to the previous topic. "What did you and Daisy talk about?" He frowned. "I've said in my texts, left voicemail every week."

Chloe sighed and looked away. "She wasn't exaggerating, then. She said she didn't know if her letters were getting to you, and the phone you gave her was... I think she said confiscated."

Hardy's eyes widened and his body straightened. "Did she say why her mother was preventing me from seeing her?"

"She didn't say, but she's guessed. Her mum's stopping her from seeing you and talking to you."

Hardy sighed and was silent for some time, not trusting his voice. "Sometimes adults do things that make no sense. Even to other adults."

"Tell me about it. I saw a bloke the other day looking in through someone's window. I shouted at him to go away."

"Who was that?"

"The perve on our street. He was caught looking at kids on the internet last year."

"Ah, yes. Him." Hardy said nothing more about that. "Does Daisy have her phone now?"

"Yeah, when her mum's not looking. She was more interested in knowing how you were, so I told her about you, Ellie, and the kids."

He hesitated before asking a critical question. "Was she hurt that I remarried?"

"More shocked, especially that you married another copper, but I think she was amazed at what you did."

"What did I do?"

"Looked after Ellie. I told her that I was sure you missed her and wanted to see her, and she looked hopeful. She wanted to talk more, but her mum called her."

He trembled despite himself. "Oh, Daisy..." He swallowed hard. "But did she seem okay with you talking with Daisy?"

"Not really. They both gave me the daggers, like they were sizing me up with their eyes. It creeped me out, but I want to help."

"What if they start to suspect you know me?"

"She has my mobile number saved under chrysanthemum and types it into every text." She took out her phone and opened the conversation to show him.

Hardy read them. "Can't talk now. Mum's awake and arguing with Bruce again. Chrysanthemum... Getting my little brother dressed. Going to the beech later. Chrysanthemum... One Direction? I prefer Aha. It's my dad's favourite. Chrysanthemum... My real dad. My mum won't tell me where he is. Chrysanthemum... I miss him, seen him a couple of times, but Bruce always gets in the way, like he thinks I'm going to tell on him. Chrysanthemum..."

Hardy fell silent for a moment before passing the phone back.

"There's more," Chloe offered.

Hardy shook his head, his emotions too raw to risk speaking.

"You need to get her away from that man," Chloe told him directly as he handed the phone back. "I've seen him. He's a bully. And I don't even think your ex likes him all that much. They can't be happy together. They're at each other's throats all the time. And your daughter and little boy are in the middle of it."

Hardy shook his head. "He's not my little boy."

"Then why's he look exactly like you?" Chloe confronted. "He looks almost exactly like your Harry."

Hardy stared at her, stunned by the force of her argument.

"I'll be your messenger, but there's got to be something in it for me," Chloe told him.

Hardy didn't want to ask the question, but he was willing to do what it took to find out what Daisy was so afraid of. "What do you want in return?"

"I want you to get her away from that man," Chloe replied. "Daisy's my friend. And I know she's in trouble."

"Find out," he asked her. "And I'll do everything legally possible."

"Promise me."

"I'll do better than that," Hardy returned. "I promised Daisy. I hate the fact that she feel she needs to keep secrets. I've wanted her with me since her mother threw me out. But I can't break up a family."

"She won't leave her brother," Chloe revealed. "I told her to run away, but she won't leave him. She's had threats from a bloke who said Bruce will hurt Ben if she tries anything."

"That's a police matter," Mark said, although he paled along with Beth.

"Who threatened her, Chloe?" Hardy asked.

"I don't know. Daisy wouldn't say, but I think she's terrified. She said she wished you'd never left. She thinks you abandoned her."

"I didn't," Hardy replied gently. "But I'm desperate and confused and I don't want to lose Ellie. I don't want yet another failed marriage. The ink's barely dry on this one, and my ex turns up to wave my daughter and her son under my nose like trophies."

"You and Ellie are arguing, aren't you?" Chloe realised. "Less than two months and my mum and dad have had seventeen years." She looked at them accusingly. "You should be helping him not backing away. Mum, you were friends with Ellie since you were Christopher's age. And yet you're blaming her for Danny's murder. And you call me juvenile!" She turned back to Hardy. "Did you and Ellie have a honeymoon?"

"What? No." Hardy couldn't see the relevance. "Ellie's only just back at work after maternity leave. Why?"

"Coz you need one," Chloe said determinedly. "Even if it's just a week end or a night, you need to get away and take time for just the two of you. When's the last time you and Ellie had a date?"

"Uhm..." Now he was on a spot. "Last year, before the twins were born."

"Well, that's not good enough. You need time to build a relationship to make it last. My mum and dad have dates nights every week."

"Yeah, but money's been tight." He couldn't believe he had lost control of a conversation with a seventeen year-old. About his marriage.

"You don't need money to go on a date," Chloe countered, while her dad covered an amused grin with his hand. "Go for a walk, skip stones, draw sand pictures. Be spontaneous. Honestly, you adults tell us kids we have no imagination. Go down the arcades and blow a tenner on the crazy golf. You can get your face panted and be daft for a couple of hours. It's all fun and bonding time. If you need a babysitter, just ask."

Hardy could almost see himself jumping at the chance. But he had priorities. "Thank you. For now, let's concentrate on one thing. Keep talking to Daisy. Let her know I want wife is in the middle of a murder investigation. But thanks for your offer to babysit."

/=/=/=/=/

"You've all seen her. Doesn't she look scared of something?"

Chloe's friends looked at each other after the whisper. She had called them together to meet during lunch to discuss something critical, she said in her texts to them. Dean was there because he was able to come by, at her request.

Lara Daniels leaned closer. "But with the murders, is it safe for us to get involved? This is the daughter of someone who sounds like a suspect-"

"I know DI Hardy is innocent," Chloe interrupted. "So does my dad. My mum thinks it, too, but is avoiding getting involved. But have you seen Connelly?"

"That crazy man?" asked another.

"That 'crazy man' got a lot of things right about what happened to Danny. I heard Mrs. Chatwell say in the corner shop that he's afraid there will be more murders if the killers aren't found soon."

"Killers? You mean there's more than one?"

"Connelly says there's more than one," Chloe said. "And I believe him."

"Then any of us might be next!" Lara hissed as they huddled in the bus shelter out of the rain as they shared a bag of chips.

"Given how sacred she acts, Daisy might be next! And DI Hardy said so when he came round," Chloe added. "I don't like the look of that man her mum's with, and she doesn't seem to have anyone she can trust. She wants to reach out to her dad, but has been held back. We may be her only hope. Will you help me help her and her dad?"

Dean answered first. And since he was usually the most reserved, that got the others motivated. "But I say none of us goes out alone. Not until the police have got the murderer."

/=/=/=/=/

Tess was having a relaxing time. Finally. She could almost imagine that they were a normal family. Except that she was keeping secrets. And she definitely knew Bruce was. She had her suspicions that he had been boffing another glanced at a group of joggers crossing the Esplanade to take the hill up to the town centre. It almost made her forget the confrontation with her ex. Hopefully he'd got the message and left town. Not to mention that gullible reporter.

Beside her, Ben clutched his Minion. The damned thing had better be appreciated, she thought silently. It had cost her seventeen tries. And her daughter had made a new friend in the arcade, she'd noticed. That was always nice to see. Daisy didn't go out much. Since she had been arrested for shoplifting, she concentrated most of her spare time on her studies and her little brother, and while Tess liked that she didn't think it should be all she was doing with her life.

Except there were those odd times when she'd go and check on her and find her not in her room. Tess had dismissed it. She'd found her in the garden once, studying out in the evening light. So she wasn't that concerned. She wasn't all that interested either, as long as nothing bad happened. She'd never wanted kids, but she supposed a woman was meant to at least make an effort at being a mother. She'd hated it from the word go. She didn't think she had a single maternal gene, let alone bone, in her body. But come between her and her kids, like her ex had earlier, and she'd show the tiger in her.

They were now on their way back to the hotel for dinner. Something that the bed and breakfast didn't offer, although there had been a nice restaurant next door.

"What do you fancy for dinner tonight?" Tess wondered.

"Can we try the lasagne tonight?" Daisy asked. "I've wanted to try it since we arrived," she admitted.

"I didn't know you liked lasagne," her mother returned in mild surprise.

"Neither do I until I try it," Daisy put in.

Tess actually smiled at that. She rarely smiled these days. She was sure the last time she had smiled was in the weeks before the robbery. Life had been simpler back then. Before Hardy had taken the rap for her... Not that anyone knew about that. Before she'd cheated on her husband... Not that Daisy knew about that. Before Phillip Salt had dumped her on finding out Ben wasn't his... And no one knew about that. She had spent the last five years in confusion as to why Bruce, even though he liked her, didn't like her son. He was his, after all. Thanks to her then husband's sudden announcement that Ben couldn't be hisshe had had to assume Ben was Phillip's or Bruce's. Bruce was the only one of the three who hadn't gone for a test.

Still, they were a family. That was what mattered in the end. Even if her daughter had withdrawn into herself. She put that down to teenage and puberty and her upcoming exams. Life was stressful enough without all three coming at once.

"I'm famished," Bruce abruptly spoke.

Tess smiled widely. "You always are. You eat for two men, you do."

"Gotta keep these beauties fed," Bruce joked. He flexed his arms into a wrestler's pose and made the muscles of his chest ripple in an alternating wave.

"Oh god, that is disgusting!" Daisy replied.

Tess laughed.

They stepped into the hotel and went straight to their room to offload their prizes and souvenirs. Ben was quiet and pale. He curled up in a ball on the bed for a moment, watching them put their things away, and hugged his Minion.

"Come on, Ben. Time for diner."

Ben got up and followed his mum, placing his hand in hers as they left the room again. "I don't feel very well, Mummy."

"Oh don't you start," Tess grumbled quietly.

"See what you're doing, Daisy?" Bruce noted. "You're passing your hypochondria on to your brother."

Tess pushed her hand up under Ben's fringe. "It's just the excitement of having to move hotels, twice, and winning a Minion," she assured him. "Once we've eaten dinner you can have an early night."

Ben nodded, but wondered if she was right. "But my chest hurts," he whined.

"Stop it, Ben. Bruce, I told you not to be so rough with him. He's only little."

"Give up, Tess. It'll toughen him up. Make a man of him. Don't want him whimping out in school against the bullies, do you?"

They picked a table and sat down to look at the menu.

"Mummy, my chest hurts," Ben said again, giving a sickly cough. He pressed a hand to the middle of his chest. "Mummy! I feel really dizzy... I feel sick-"

Tess watched in mounting alarm as her son fell to the floor, his face pulled back into a grimace. She dropped to her knees beside him and felt his skin. It was clammy and cold to the touch. "Bruce, he needs a doctor."

"Stop being such a drama queen. He's fine. He's just trying to get attention."

Ben struggled to draw breath as Tess listened to his heart. "Bruce! Someone! Call 999! Now!"

"Need help?" a man asked as he approached from the stairs.

Tess looked up at him, barely noticing the plumber's toolkit on his shoulder. The man with him already had his phone out. In her panic, she couldn't word out. Daisy was practically screaming.

"Shut up," Bruce shouted at Daisy. "Tess, stop being an embarrassment! And you," he glared at the newcomers. "Back off and mind your own business!"

The first man ignored him, dropped his bag, and knelt to listen the now silent boy's chest. "Nige, tell them he's having a heart attack!"

Tess wasn't the only one rendered silent at that announcement.

**ĐĐ**

**End of Episode**


	25. Episode 4, Part 1

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

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><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tardis:<strong> Count the adverts. It all started with me writing Life Without Joe (blowing my own trumpet). The title does not say why Joe was not there, whether he had died or walked out. It was just that he was no long there. No clue, no hint, no spoiler, no Joe. And just in case anyone else caught on before I did – episode four – that it was Joe I had to watch from a play back site because I was first burying my mum and then moving, so I actually missed episodes 2-7 until just days before the finale. My deepest thanks to bas_math_girl who saved me from being "spoilered". And, sorry, tkel, but it was not the BBC. It was ITV that made and broadcast the original. The BBC can only wish.

I got this idea after watching the original for the however-many time it was. I'd gone out to HMV to find a copy of The Politician's Wife and on the off-chance asked them if they had a copy of Broadchruch. As it happened the delivery had just arrived. I had the first copy out of the box at HMV Cardiff. There. Selfless advertising. And the Beeb still loses out. So I sat and watched it and thought I wonder what happens next? I've lived in hotels. I've been in a similar situation as Tom (and Ellie, actually, but that's neither here nor there), and I know there had to be more. Life would not have been cosy for Ellie.

So I wrote it.

LWJ was the result. And my readers liked it. Tkel refused to read it. And I fully understand and support her reasons.

However, within days of finishing and posting it I got another idea. I sat on it for months while tkel waited for the DVD, and by that time the plot bunny had stewed itself into a balrog (another plug, this one's LOTR). Tkel was busy. I was in Preston for the long awaited arrival of my first 'born in Britain'; grandchild. I have been busy looking after him and my daughter and fighting for justice for my son-in-law that the Balrog sat forgotten in a dark room on my data pen for a year. Date of starting: September 22 2013. I had a brief outline and a few notes. I basically picked at it for a year until both tkel and I were ready to put in the time and effort.

November 1 2014. One month turned into three weeks, and over 285400 words later we had a first draft. Chris Chibnall may own the copyrights and I bet his sequel is brilliant, **LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILERED! **but he doesn't have a murder. Read it and weep, Chris, my friend. Mine does. *Taggart voice* There's been a murder!

This has been a phenomenal achievement for both of us. Neither of us has done anything like this before. Working with a co-writer is not recommended for everyone. It takes a lot of patience, stamina – I had to sprint to keep up – and a strong willingness to share. I hate sharing. :D

This is going to hurt. Have tissues at the ready. I don't pull punches. Those who know my work know I have plot twists and unexpected clues, and if you miss them you'll be left behind. Make notes. You'll need them.

This is based on Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch, and a few details from the novelisation by Erin Kelly (another shameless advert), with the addition of some aspects of LWJ. If you haven't seen Broadchurch, why are you reading this first? Go away and do so, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you haven't read the novel, don't worry. I have, and you can take or leave it. It has some minor flaws and mistakes, but it is a good read. You'll find my review on Goodreads (another shameless advert) website.

Tkel and I half thought about including our own map, since the blatant error in Erin's was the mistake you'd expect from a small child. Beth's and Ellie's houses are across a field and they can see each other's kitchens; it was mentioned in the original and in the book. So I'm scratching my head trying to work out why Erin's map put them practically back to back, separated by a row of houses.

But, anyway, advertisements aside (Did you count them? There are seven.), I hope you like Sins Of The Father. We've kept it in the same style as the original eight episode format, but each one will have a different number of chapters. Hopefully, they will all be posted by the time ITV airs the sequel. Though try not to compare. Enjoy.

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><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tkel:<strong> Being an American with not a lot of time on her hands to learn the tricks for getting things early from the other side of the pond, I had to wait to see Broadchurch. So I had months of reading about how good it was and how amazing David Tennant's performance was. It was more than a bit frustrating, but I give the people on my friends list credit for not spoiling anything other than Hardy's having a medical condition and one other detail. During the wait I noticed my friend Moley post a Broadchurch fanfic. Well, I did not read it. I even made a point of trying to forget I even saw one was posted. Finally the series came to BBC America, although I did not know that about two hours worth of material was cut to make room for the commercials. I was pissed off when I heard that, and promptly decided that where productions with Tennant were concerned, I would buy Region 2 only. (I had learned that computers can be manipulated to act like an all regions playing DVD player, although as of when I wrote the original note I had not yet figured it out. Trust me, I will learn soon enough.)

I was in awe from the first episode. A great cast, a heartbreaking case, and I was trying to figure out who did it almost immediately. Some I figured were unlikely, or would not be the killer without more plot twists. By the end of Episode Seven, I had a sinking suspicion who the killer was. It did not help that my memory chose then to recall what it thought was the title of Moley's fic. But I waited until the final moments had aired, and was in a bit of emotional turmoil. (Which I think we were supposed to be.) At that point, I got on Live Journal and read all five posts of Moley's fic, pausing only to comment. I needed more time to digest it fully, but I had reread it about four times by the next evening.

The thing is, my muse is the type to get ideas at the drop of a hat sometimes. Sometimes no hat, as Moley has reminded me. (giggles) Often when I am trying to work on other things. Bonzina (what I call my Muse) instantly thought about what might happen afterward, thinking about the unresolved things still there from the original story. She had thought of a plot bunny that had me intrigued. So I emailed Moley with the idea, having no idea that it would prove to be the platform for an idea that had been languishing since Life Without Joe was finished, and we bounced it back and forth – like you do when you beta read each other's work. I don't think we'd emailed about it for more than a day before it transformed into a plot balrog. (For those of you who aren't Tolkien fans, that's a giant creature of shadow and flame, "a demon from the ancient world" to quote Gandalf from the movie version of "Fellowship". Practically impossible to get rid of, as the movie showed.) Basically, it wasn't going to leave either of us alone by then, so we agreed to work on it together as soon as we could both make the time for it. Meanwhile we bounced more ideas back and forth until we had our first outline ready.

Well, although we did a lot of preplanning, we didn't get to writing until I mentioned I was thinking about what to do for NaNoWriMo 2014. Moley noted about Broadchurch 2 being filmed, and we agreed that we should get our balrog finished and fully posted before the first episode airs on ITV. And I was also working on another mystery story at the same time. Only thing is, on that story I had trouble with the outline, and stalled on it in a big way learning why my writer friends gave me the advice they did the hard way as my muse was insistent on trying something different. So I got way ahead on my parts of the story, but I used it to figure out enough so I could resume writing the other story. Even though it may never see the light of day, depending on what I think of it in the end.

Of course, I was very busy. Moved to a new city, started a new job that now means I have a profession, and had to focus on settling in. But I had managed enough that I could do NaNo once again. Although I'm still stalled on that one other story, I know one of the things I need to do with it. I also wrote a few other things, including a Christmas present for another friend – on a dare from said friend. So my grand NaNoWriMo total for 2014? 124,977. Yes. That's correct. And yet someone else managed just over 150,000. You'd better believe I intend to beat that next year.

So that's my side of the story. There will be another Broadchurch collaboration, based off an idea I had from working on this story. Stay tuned about that one. Or maybe... more than one, given that Moley and I seem to be off in slightly different directions for that one. (grins) This was a fun project, and I hope that Moley and I find additional ones to work on together. Not counting the beta reading we already do, or the times when I was utterly stuck on a story and needed more than prodding but wholesale suggestions to get it moving again. (bigger grin)

* * *

><p><em>Summertime. Outdoors. Four girls played together in a garden, giggling as small children do. No cares of the world touched them, or if they did they pretended they did not exist.<em>

_There was an undercurrent of sadness. They all knew they would part ways, but no one knew just when they would see each other again. But it was the birthday of one of them, and so they could forget about most troubles for the time being._

/=/=/=

_Another summer. The air was pleasant, but there was a hint of tension. Mostly in the adults watching._

_Three slightly older girls sat on a beech making a sandcastle. They shaped it in honour of the fourth who did not come, looking up at each sometimes in wonder of why they had not heard from their friend._

/=/=/=/

_Two young teenage girls walking together in a busy street, shopping. They tried to laugh, but the __aura__ around them was oppressive. Especially on the taller one. A great weight was hanging on her shoulders, __but__ the haunted look had purchase in the shorter one._

/=/=/=/=/

_Darkness surrounded the area. The moon's light barely shone through the clouds._

_A girl stepped into the light of an open window.__ She kept low, trying to be invisible. She glanced up at the moon, her face that of the shorter of the teenagers. But her formerly honey-blonde hair had been dyed black. Her face was pale even for the light out, and her whole being spoke of knowing a terror unspeakable._

_She looked and listened, closing the __window__ before she repeated the listening. Then she fled into the shadows, as quietly as she __could__._

/=/=/=/

_Under the same moonlight and yet slightly different clouds angled overhead a sixteen __year-old girl__ stood alone, partly in shadow, leaning against a brick-built bus shelter with the sound of the ocean not far away. It was the taller of the girls. Her long hair fell in waves about her shoulders and at her throat hung a locket that rested against her t-shirt. It was old, as old as she felt. She bore herself as one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, silhouetted against the light of an opening door behind her._

_In the distance the echoing cry of a newborn child broke the silence of the night._

/=/=/=/=/

**Episode Four. Part One: Every Beat Of My Heart.**

Hardy sat in the hospital waiting room, flicking disinterestedly through a magazine from the table. Why was it always women's magazines on offer? And very out of dates ones at that. He leaned over to drop it back onto he pile and sat back down again.

He was only here for his regular six-monthly check-up. It was usually very quiet, but today it was even quieter. There had been an alarm not twenty minutes before and two doctors had rushed from the department side rooms, with full de-fib and medi-packs, up to one of the wards. He couldn't tell which one.

The hospital was a small one. Most of the patients were seen here first and if needed sent to the general. He'd had his pace-maker fitted here. Thank god they had a cardiology unit, because he would never have survived the hour and a half journey up to the general.

And it seemed someone else was about to find out the same answer. He hoped they lived to know it, whoever they were.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. He was now thirty minutes late for his appointment. Not that he begrudged it. His doctor had been among the doctors who had rushed out with the de-fib pack. Luckily, he was the only one waiting for an appointment, though the woman at the desk seemed to have forgotten that anyone was here at all.

Eventually she appeared and hurried towards him.

"Mr. Hardy?"

"Yes?" he said.

"Terribly sorry about the wait. There's been an emergency on the children's ward. Would you mind waiting a bit longer, or shall I book you another appointment?"

Hardy considered it. He hated making a replacement appointment, because it meant booking more time off work. But since he was unavoidably off work anyway, he had nothing to rush back to. "No, I'll wait, he assured her. Thanks."

So it was a child, he notied to himself as he watched her return to her desk behind the glass window. Poor kid. Poor parents, too. He wouldn't want to be in their shoes. He knew what it had done to Ellie and the boys to see him so gravely ill.

As he waited a lone figure appeared at the far end of the waiting room, where it opened into the corridor beyond. He recognised her at once. His entire body clenched ready for another confrontation. He could do without it, and frankly, taking one look at her, he was certain she could, too.

Tess wandered in, looking pale, exhausted and dishevelled. She slotted a few coins into the vending machine directly opposite the waiting room, and poked at the buttons. Out came a hot coffee, or something like it, and she scooped it up to take a sip.

As she turned, she saw Hardy sitting there. She rolled her eyes, decided to ignore him, but then turned back. She marched towards him like a storm front, jabbing finger out. He remained seated.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, following me here?!" she demanded, her voice quiet. Which made a change.

He briefly lifted the small appointment card he was holding for her to see. "Appointment. How could I possibly follow you here if I didn't know you were here?" he pointed out.

"And why should I believe you?"

"Whether you believe it or not, is your prerogative, but I didn't know you were here. And why would it interest me?"

"You tell me," she threw back at him.

"It doesn't. End of story," he told her.

"Look, just leave us alone. I don't want you following us around. I don't need this on top of everything else," she said forthrightly.

Hardy stared at her, realising that something was terribly wrong. He got to his feet, afraid that Connelly's warning had already come to fruition. "Tess, what's happened? Where's Daisy? Is she all right?"

"Daisy's fine, thank you," she said stiffly, trying not to break apart in front of him. That was be mortifying, not to mention embarrassing. "My son had a heart attack last night," she managed. "Just now, the doctors were in the middle of performing some tests and his heart gave out again."

"Oh god," he breathed. "Tess, I'm so sorry."

She managed a nod. "Yeah. Well, you'd know all about heart problems, wouldn't you? Apparently," she told him in less than believing tones. "Or maybe you slipped him something yesterday when you tried to take him."

"I didn't try to take your son," he countered, and then recalled the events of the previous day. "So it was you who called the police. Thanks so much for lying. My Super now thinks I'm a kiddie-snatcher."

"Maybe I did call the police," she said, half agreeing. "It would teach you a blood lesson for what you put me through!"

"What I put _you_ through?!" he returned in astonishment.

"Excuse me!" a voice cut in.

They turned to find Hardy's doctor had returned.

"Mrs. Hardy, you can return to your son. _Mr_. Hardy, would you step into my office, please?" he said tartly.

Hardy gave Tess one last smouldering look and turned to follow the doctor into his office. He closed the door, feeling embarrassed that anyone had witnessed that and even more so that it had been here, of all places.

"Six-monthly check," the doctor spoke almost to himself as he returned the de-fib to its hook on the wall. He plugged it in to recharge and moved towards his desk. "How have you been?"

"I've been fine," he replied. "I've been jogging most mornings and eating healthily. My wife makes sure I have no excuse there, although I have had the odd bag of chips."

The doctor gave him a sharp stare, one of those you'd expect from a bear from darkest Peru if you'd taken one of his marmalade sandwiches. "As long as it is the odd bag," he said. He reread the previous entries on the screen and stood up, taking out his stethoscope. "The last thing we need is for you to add more problems to what you already have. Jacket off please."

Hardy tugged off his jacket and waited for him to listen to his heart.

"I think it might be a good idea if you have your son checked as well," he spoke as he approached Hardy. "Sleeve."

Hardy frowned in confusion as he watched the doctor record his heart rate on a small piece of paper and return with an armband. Hardy waited for the inevitable tightening around his arm. He wasn't particularly a whimp, but he hated having his blood pressure checked. It was uncomfortable.

"He has probably inherited your problems from you," he continued. "Hate to be blunt, but he's long over due a pace-maker. It was a struggle to get him to stabilise. Even so, and I know you both have frayed nerves, but the waiting room is not the place. You should be supporting each other, not at logger-heads."

"My son has been twice to see you," Hardy reminded the doctor. "He's due another check-up in September. And the woman I was arguing with was my ex wife."

The doctor paused. "Really? Oh. Well, apologies. Even so, you still need a little decorum. Your son needs his parents to be there for him and his needs, and not distracted by squabbling. It doesn't help matters at all."

"Do you mean Ben?"

The doctor lifted his eyebrows. "Of course I mean Ben. He's inherited the same condition you have... Oh my god. You don't know. She hasn't told you, has she?"

"Know what?"

The doctor looked increasingly uncomfortable. "Ben was rushing in last night with acute arrhythmia." He hesitated. "Um, simple question. Is Ben Hardy your son?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, that puts a different slant on things. I am terribly sorry. I assumed because you have the same name and he is your ex-wife's son that he was also your son."

"No," Hardy repeated. "And I'm very annoyed that she's given you that impression. And even more annoyed that she gave him my name."

"So you weren't together when Ben was born?"

"For appearances, but she got pregnant by another man. I never found out who, but I presume it's the man she's with now. I had a paternity test done to prove Ben wasn't mine. I was vindicated. And I didn't enjoy that one bit."

"He looks a lot like you."

"I noticed that when I saw him for the first time since he was two years old, yesterday," Hardy admitted. "But he's not mine."

The doctor looked like he had more to say and wondered if it was his place to say it. He checked the pacemaker's memory and printed it out while he silently debated and decided to say it. "I'd have the test done again, Mr. Hardy," he suggested quietly. "Your heart condition is very rare and only occurs in families with a history of it. Parent and child."

Hardy felt himself flinch involuntarily at the implication, but he was adamant. "He's _not_ my son."

His tone was confidant, but the assurance behind it was beginning to waver.

/=/=/=/=/

Along the hall in the children's ward, in a single-bed room, Ben lay sedated and on a heart monitor. He had an oxygen mask over his face and his Minion tucked in his arm. Bruce gazed disinterestedly at the bed and wandered over to the window to stare out at the sun-baked day. People were out there having fun, while he was stuck in here.

Tess sat in the chair beside the bed, numbed by what had happened. Her son had a bad heart. It had changed everything. Ben would have to be kept calm and not be allowed to run around like other children. He would have to take medication for the rest of his life, or have a pace-maker once he got home. He was too weak to have it done immediately and the local hospital wouldn't do it. Different health authority.

"Is there any family history of heart problems?" the nurse asked.

Tess shook her head, hugging a now cold cup of coffee. "Not on my side. Bruce?"

Bruce had been increasingly edgy about divulging his family's health information. "I told you, it's none of anyone's business!"

"For goodness sake, Bruce," Tess urged him angrily. "Ben could die."

"Leave me out if it!" Bruce forced out.

"What is wrong with you? This is your son!"

Bruce huffed a breath in annoyance and turned away, staring out of the window. He refused to say anything more.

The nurse looked uncomfortable. "We'll need to do more tests," she said.

"Do it, whatever you need to do," Tess urged her.

"We'll need to take bloods to rule out anything else and other causes," the nurse added. "There are three possibilities that might have caused the arrhythmia; undiscovered illness, a heart injury or a defect."

"Please, do anything, everything. Do whatever it takes to find the problem and get Ben well again."

It would take some time for the results to come back. The samples had to be sent to the general. At this point in time, Ben was too ill to be moved.

Daisy read to her brother, having brought his favourite book. He had slipped in and out of consciousness, and she was unsure exactly how much of the story he had heard. He couldn't even roll over, as any sudden movement could trigger another episode.

She didn't take this well at all. After the second heart attack, she sobbed gently. All his life she had looked after him, told him about her dad, probably turned him into a hero figure, but that was what he was to her.

"Is he going to die?" she asked the nurse who came in to check his vitals every few minutes.

"I couldn't say, love," the nurse replied gently. "But we'll do everything we can to make sure he doesn't."

"I need to know," Daisy persisted. "I lost my dad and now I'm going to lose my brother. Aren't I?"

"Daisy, don't talk like that," Tess cut in. "Your dad made his choice. He left. He doesn't care about you. All he ever cared about was work."

"That's not true," Daisy insisted. "You kicked him out."

"Please," the nurse quieted. "Right now, we need a little more focus on Ben. If you can't do that then I'm afraid I'd have to ask you to leave. Either way you've all been up all night. I strongly suggest you go and get some sleep."

/=/=/=/=/

Leaving the ward to return to the hotel, Daisy caught sight of someone she recognised.

"Just need the loo," she called out.

"Daisy!" Bruce grumbled.

"Bruce," Tess quieted. "Do you want us to wait for you, or will you be all right?"

"No, I'll be fine," Daisy assured her. "I'll catch up."

She watched her mum and Bruce vanish out the doors and around the corner and turned back to her dad standing in the corridor. He too had waited for them to leave. She saw his eyes shift to Daisy. She ran to him and hugged him.

His arms wrapped tightly around her. "Daisy, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm ok," she assured him. "Oh, god, Chloe was right. You do want to see me, you have wanted to see me."

The mention of Chloe reminded him of the offer, but he did not dare speak of it. "Every day, love." He looked at her carefully and knew she wasn't ok at all. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you."

"Mum said you slept with someone else, but I didn't believe her."

"Good, because I didn't," he replied, but fell short of telling her what really happened.

"What are you doing here? Have you come to see Ben?"

"No, I'm here for a check-up," he told her honestly. He could find no reason to keep the truth from her. "I have a bad heart. I had a pacemaker fitted."

"Ben needs one of those," Daisy replied. "The doctor said it was inherited."

To Hardy's relief she changed the subject

"Why haven't you called?"

"I have, every week, sometimes every day."

"There's nothing on my phone. Are you sure you called the right number?"

Hardy wondered if it was more than his ex was deleting the calls, but he said nothing. "You've grown so tall," he said.

Daisy smiled widely. "I get that from you," she grinned. For the first time in forever she felt safe and relaxed, but it couldn't last. She glanced at the door. "I better go. Or Bruce will kick hell."

"He's controlling."

"That's an understatement. He's nasty. I don't like him at all and neither does Ben. Can't you take us away?"

"I can't do that, Daisy. The court gave custody to your mum."

"But you could fight it. We could be a family again. And Ben could see what a real dad is like, coz Bruce is rubbish."

He sighed. "I can't take Ben."

"Why not?"

He knew this moment would come sooner or later. "He's not my son, Daisy."

Daisy stared at him realising what he wasn't saying. She took a step back from him in shock.

"I wish... I so wanted to believe he was, but the truth is he couldn't havebeen mine."

Daisy gave him one last look and fled. Leaving her father stock still.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	26. Episode 4, Part 2

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Four. Part Two: Girls On Phones<strong>

It had taken Hardy too long to move after Daisy had fled from shock. He now had his answer about what she knew about Ben. Her mother had let her go on believing it.

Why? Did she not want to admit to either affair?

Given the accusations and suspicious gazes thrown his way, it felt like a miracle that he could smile. Like the world was going to fall on him or swallow him up at any moment. Or someone was outright going to accuse him of something and arrest him. He might feel better if they did.

On the other hand, Ellie would hit the roof. He had seen her do that once, and he was in no hurry to see it again.

But how could he not smile at the sight before him? His boys at the skate park, enjoying life. Tom had showed off for a bit and was now keeping to a safer part so Fred could play with the skateboard a little. Mostly sitting on it while Tom guided him along, but it was making the younger boy squeal and the twins giggle from their pushchair. Any time spent with all of his children was worth it.

His smile faded. Almost all of his children. The only one missing was Daisy.

If he had been able to keep her, he wondered how would she have adjusted to Broadchurch. Would she have accepted Ellie and the boys into her heart? Would he and Ellie have had the twins?

But he would never have been able to hide his condition from her. Although she might have helped him take better care of himself, so it might have worked out better.

Should he have taken the harder road of telling the truth? Would Daisy have been able to take it after all? Would they all have been better off, even if it cut her off from her little brother?

So many unknowns. So many regrets. Although he doubted, given what he knew, that telling the truth would have led to a faster resolution to the Sandbrook case.

"DI Hardy?"

The voice surprised him, but at least it was friendly. So he could smile at the newcomer, pleased to see Dean standing in the background as a sentry for her safety. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," Chloe said, looking somewhat awkward.

"Didn't know you liked watching skateboarding." He was still in awe that the bigger boys at the park were courteous and careful around his much smaller sons, but he had kept the twins in the pushchair since they had yet to learn to walk unaided.

"I came every so often with Danny," she said, softly as she stopped beside him. "Sometimes I sit here to remember the good times we had." As she talked she leaned in to give the twins a good tickling. As they squealed she remarked, "They're getting bigger. What would you have said if anyone told you you'd be here today when you arrived in Broadchurch?"

Hardy hummed in thought. "Let's just say that I can't say it around their ears. You might hear such language from your friends, but I'm not going to contribute to it."

She laughed. "Might be interesting, knowing how a Scotsman swears. Or a copper. Do copper's swear?"

"I have to be really frustrated. Or drunk, and I'm not allowed to get drunk. And yes, coppers swear. Obviously you've never been around Ellie when she's really angry."

"You mean her threat to those photographers was _mild_?"

"You could say that." He frowned as he looked back at her. "You sounded like you were looking for me."

Chloe took a breath. "Yeah, I was. I heard you got to speak with your daughter."

His eyes widened. "She told you about that?"

"Yeah. She doesn't believe that Ben can't be yours. And neither do I."

"I told you, there was a test."

"And I think someone lied. Look at Harry. I mean, _really_ look at him."

He could tell she would not tell him more about Daisy until he did. So he stepped around to face the twins head-on.

They immediately looked at him with big smiles, and as he smiled back he looked at Harry's face.

_...__That's good. I'll tell Daisy all about seeing you..._

Although Harry did resemble Tom and Fred in his expressions and in the subtle details of his face, Alec could see why Daisy and Chloe were so convinced. The resemblance between Ben and Harry was not easily explained away. Tess' male relatives looked nothing like Ben. No wonder even his doctor was convinced.

But why would the test say Ben was not his son?

Chloe was satisfied that the seed was finally, properly planted in his mind. "I talked to all my friends. They're willing to help if they can, so I can quickly pass any messages to them. We can gather and then scatter so your ex doesn't know. But we'll be careful. If you have a note for me to give her..."

He thought a moment about the custody arrangement, and whether Tess could have a go at him for trying to get around it. He was supposed to have access and contact, and so far there had been neither. And if this was the only way, then he'd do it. Except these were kids, not much older than Daisy herself. Tess had made efforts to stop him contacting Daisy and it seemed she had taken steps to stop Daisy contacting him. If Daisy was being prevented... On the other hand, he was tempted. But these were kids. Could he possibly take the risk?

"I'll get a note to you, but I need a bit of time to think about what to say. But I need to know that your parents are still okay with this first, because I'm not willing to get on the wrong side of your mother. There's already too much history between her and Ellie to make it worse. Let me think about it."

"This is important," she insisted. "You've got every right to talk to your daughter as any dad."

"Yes. I know, but there's bad air between your mum and my wife. It's complicated and you know it. But... I am sorely tempted. There's so much to catch up on, and I need to keep it simple. So she can quickly read it if she has little time.

Chloe smiled. "Meet you before I head to work tomorrow so I can collect it?" she said, not caring that he hadn't made up his mind.

"Unless I need to get it to you some other way. You'll find a way to get it to her? If she doesn't want to reply, please confirm that."

Chloe doubted he would get that answer, but after two years ago she hated anything that might be raising false expectations. "Of course I will." She smiled and waved to Tom and Fred, and Harry and Catherine. "See you tomorrow. You know how to reach me so I know to expect you."

"Yeah. Be safe," he replied.

She met his eyes, and her expression fell. She nodded slowly before she walked away. She knew what he meant, and having him say that confirmed what everyone was saying. Anyone could be a target.

He had to force his breathing to remain steady, to not raise any alarms in anyone watching him. He had a chance to know what was really happening. How could he not take it?

Maybe he should stop by the local solicitor. Just to be certain he was within the letter of the law. First consultation was free.

Then he remembered what he'd overheard about Ben, what the hospital thought was going on. Maybe he needed to speak to the solicitor about that, too, and book another blood test. If Tess agreed. Which he doubted.

But one more look at Harry's face, looking all inquisitive at him, brought another flash to Ben giving a far too similar look. It gnawed at his mind and heart.

/=/=/=/=/

With the children all in bed, Hardy sat at his desk at home. It stood in the alcove that had originally been the front door, though not long after moving in Ellie had found that the door did not open. It was easier and cheaper just to seal it in than to fit a new door. For the time being.

He also knew that SOCO had tested that desk. It needed two people to move it, even if Hardy had been well and fully able. He could only hope that detail worked in his favour with the murder inquiry.

Shaking off those thoughts as best he could, he pulled out a blank piece of paper and the nearest pen he knew worked, and then stared at the page for a long time. He had to get these words right, and there might not be another chance.

At length he finally started writing. In fits and starts.

Later Ellie came home, and sighed heavily. She had missed bedtime again. This case was getting to her, and she hated that coming home often felt like walking into a minefield. Or to a stranger's welcome. Coming home had felt risky, but she knew she needed another change of clothes. And to prepare more food for the next day. And likely the following one as well.

She noticed the light was on in the room they used as the home office. Curious and hoping to make a peace offering, she walked in to find her husband staring at a pad of paper he had written on.

"Who's that for?" she whispered.

He started. "Oh, bloody hell, Ellie!" he whispered loudly as he caught his breath. "Give a man some warning!"

Only the lack of serious paling in his face allowed her to be a bit flippant in her answer. "Should I apologise?"

"I wouldn't believe you. You've never been sorry for interrupting me."

Only the lack of real venom in his voice allowed her to smirk just a bit. "It would help if you stopped giving me reason to knock you down, you knob."

His lips cracked into a pained smile. "God, it almost feels like old times."

"Well, if this case would pick up again maybe we can get that back." She walked further into the room. "So do I need to back away from that note, just in case it's a Dear John?"

He sighed and almost smiled. "No. No, it's not a Dear John. It's for Daisy."

Somehow that never occurred to her as an option. "I thought you said you didn't trust any letters to get through to her."

"Chloe met her at the hotel and came to tell me about it. She offered to pass a note. I can't not do it."

Ellie drew up a chair and sat down. "You're not going to get in trouble for this, are you?"

"I checked. The agreement says that there is supposed to be contact. I haven't heard from Daisy in years, and now I have a chance. I got to speak with her briefly at the hospital, but she didn't feel she had the time to say much to me. And it appears that Tess never told her about the paternity test. She was... horrified by the news that Ben isn't mine."

"Poor thing. But why wouldn't her mother tell her?"

"That's only one more question on my mind. I need to know what's happening, and Chloe's given me hope that my daughter wants to talk to me. Seeing Daisy only confirmed that, even though she fled from the shock I gave her. I only hope she can find enough time to pen a reply."

The lost look in his eyes broke her heart. She covered his right hand with hers. "May I see it?"

He sighed. "It'd be a bad idea to hide it from you right now anyway." He handed it over.

She read silently to herself, though she could hear his voice in her head as she did:

"_Daisy__,_

"_I don't have enough words for how much it means to me just to see you even for a moment. It's been too long since the last time, and I've thought about you every day. I didn't even know if you wanted to talk to me at all, and that hurt. I know Chloe told you about my family here. I didn't plan this, but the only thing I would change would be having had you with us. I don't know how you feel about having a step-mum or new siblings, and if you are upset by this I hope you can forgive me one day._

"_Chloe said it seemed __as if __you're scared and unhappy. I know that you've lost friends, and in a way lost me. One of our contacts is afraid that you are in serious danger, and knowing that you're in town now is scaring me. And you know me, I never admit to being scared._

"_Daisy, if something's wrong I need to know. If your mum's the reason I haven't heard from you in over three years and you're not happy where you are, I can fight to change the custody arrangement with some testimony from you. I left because I thought I had to, because I thought you needed to be protected from some knowledge about the Sandbrook case. And your mum made it untenable for me to stay._

"_I don't know if that was the right decision anymore, or whether I should have fought harder. Only you telling me how things have been will answer that, and guide me in what to do next. I want you to know that I wanted Ben to __be__ mine, because I could've pretended your mum hadn't broken her vows to me. It was her reaction when I confronted her that was why the marriage ended. I would have given anything that what happened never did. Now I just wish there had been a way to keep you with me._

"_Please, Daisy, find a way to tell Chloe what's happening if you can't write. If you can, slip Chloe a reply to this note._

_Missing you and praying for your safety,_

_Dad"_

Ellie looked at it for a long moment before handing it back. "I hope she answers. For both your sakes."

"Me, too," he whispered, folding it carefully.

/=/=/=/=/

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Lara asked again.

Chloe sighed. She had received the note earlier that day. She had to make the most of whatever opportunity she could find to get it to her new friend. Now if Lara, Chelsea and Sonya would be a little more cooperative.

"This will make it harder for either of them to tell who hands her anything or that anything is handed over. And we all have to be willing to speak with them to give Daisy a chance to get this note. And later for when she gives her answer."

"You're certain she'll write back to him?" Sonya, their long-standing mutual friend whispered.

"You didn't see the look on her face when I told her that her dad was here. Or read the texts she sent after she saw him. She wants to speak to him properly. Can you imagine being denied contact with someone you love?"

Sighing, Chelsea spoke for them all as they lowered their gazes. "Just lead."

They all walked up to the chemist near the hotel and Chloe stopped them when Daisy came out, carrying a small bag. She started wildly on seeing them.

Chloe was alarmed. "Daisy, are you all right?"

Daisy blushed. "Um, yes. Just... a difficult..." She moved her hands a bit, like she was trying to find the words.

Chloe made an assumption. "Oh, no need to explain. We've all had problems with... that."

Some of the tension left Daisy's frame, but by no means all of it. "Thank you. Are these your friends, Chloe?"

Chloe performed the introductions. "Yeah, this is Lara, Chelsea and Sonya. Where's your mum and... who's the man to you?"

Daisy lost her smile. "Bruce. And he's nothing to me. He's... my Mum's boyfriend. They let people think they're married. She tells people she's Mrs. Stratton, but it's not legal."

Most girls would have spat more than a few of those words, Chloe thought. But Daisy stillhad that scared vibe from the other day. She decided to ask again. "Where are they?"

"At the hospital, with my little brother."

"We heard he collapsed," Lara said.

Chloe nodded when Daisy gave her a questioning look. "I mentioned it. My dad said it was the scariest thing he ever saw, and... the most disturbing since he had to ID Danny," she finished, choking a little on the last bit.

Daisy smiled weakly. "He was nice. I'm glad he was there. I think he kept my mum from panicking. I felt so helpless. And Bruce didn't do anything."

Chloe cleared her throat. "Anyway, I thought I'd bring them by to meet you, and..." She glanced around and pulled a folded paper out of her pocket. "I have this for you," she added on a whisper.

Daisy looked at it and then at her with hope. "Is it...?"

Chloe nodded. "And if they're not here, we can offer you a little privacy to read it."

But Daisy just seized it and opened it right away.

Chloe and her friends watched the play of emotions on the girl's face: fear, sadness, relief, pain, grief, and hope all raced across her face in a random fashion. It was like she was so full of feelings that she could not contain anything.

Tears were in Daisy's eyes as she handed it back. "I can't risk my mum or Bruce finding that. And I need to get back to the hotel. Can I see you tomorrow? I'll try everything to have a note for him."

"Okay. If that's what you want."

"It's not what I want. It's what's possible. I have to make sure I can write without being found out. Thanks for bringing the note. I hope we can talk properly soon. But I've got to go. See you tomorrow outside the hotel, Chloe? I'm still waiting for my friends to arrive. And... one of them's scared."

"Sure. Take care, Daisy," Chloe said, pretending she was not horror-stricken at the admission.

"Thanks. See you," Daisy said weakly, and walked off slowly and deliberately.

Sonya leaned in to Chloe. "You weren't kidding. She's living in terror of something."

"Or someone," Chelsea whispered.

Chloe took a deep breath. "Dean comes with us tomorrow. If he can't, we find someone else big who can be close by."

"My dad. He'd do it," Lara replied.

"Yeah, but he's police," Chloe reminded her. "One glimpse of him and Daisy will run a mile. Assuming no one else did anything..."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	27. Episode 4, Part 3

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Four. Part Three: Confrontations<strong>

"You need some sleep."

"I'll sleep when I know my son's going to be ok."

"Funny. You never cared until now. You change your tune quicker than an orchestra."

"Well, at least one of us is _playing_ a tune," she snapped back. The only thing lightening her mood was seeing Daisy approach, even if she was carrying another bag from the chemist's.

"DS Tess Hardy?" Ellie called out.

Tess turned to see the woman with short dark curls and a severe expression approaching. Her whole manner screamed cop. She looked down at the badge on her belt, and the person who followed her like she was the superior officer. These were not people to give the lie about her name. "Yes?"

"DS Ellie Miller, DC Anna Broome," Ellie introduced.

"Oh great!" Bruce forced out, throwing his hands up into the air. "We've been up all night and now the coppers turn up. A little girls' posse. And they grow up and still go around in posses!"

Tess scowled. "Bruce, shut up!" She turned towards the approaching women as a thought softened the scowl into a frown. "Miller? Isn't that the name of the man arrested here almost two years ago?"

Ellie was not surprised that other forces had heard about that. She did not react. "If you're really asking a different question, please have the honesty to just say it."

The bluntness startled both Tess and Bruce. She replied, "Are you related to him?"

"I'm ashamed to say he was my husband. He's now my ex. Dumped him as quickly as I could."

"And you're still wearing his ring?"

"Different husband."

"And you're still on the force?"

"Exonerated of any wrongdoing," Anna interjected. "She was the candidate for the DI's position. A little more experience and she would have had it."

Ellie did not want to get into old things, but she wanted to see whether Tess knew anything about her new marriage.

Tess bristled. "Oh, you were passed over for my ex. How like the higher ups to choose a man over a woman who's forced to take leave to have kids, isn't it?"

That confirmed it for Ellie. Tess was bitter that she had been passed up for promotion. She shrugged. "It worked out for me. I wouldn't have a job now if I'd had to be in charge then."

"You still go by Miller?"

"I've been known by it for fourteen years on the job. Seemed like too much trouble to change it. And to do so seemed like saying I did something wrong. So I still use it in defiance."

Not really, but she was testing the waters. Just to be certain.

Tess smiled, almost like she approved of her actions. "What can we do for you?"

"I've been going over the witness list and I noticed that your daughter has not been interviewed as part of the investigation."

"What can she add to it?" Bruce asked, voice sharp as cut glass.

"One of the victims was her friend."

Daisy stilled, blinking hard and paling.

That caught Ellie and Anna's attention, but Ellie continued as thought she had seen nothing. "Someone I understand her mother here once knew, so I assumed that you would have told her and both be glad to help an investigation given that girls Daisy's age are being targeted."

Tess gave Bruce a cold look before slowly nodding. "Fine. Ask her right here."

"I'm going to speak with her on that bench over there. You can watch us from here."

"I'm her mother. I have a right to be here."

"Some of the questions will be challenged in court if she has to rely on her mother's memory. Having you watch from that distance is a compromise acknowledging the rules."

"Then you're not asking her anything."

Ellie stepped closer. "Let me explain something about Broadchurch. I have lived here all my life. I know practically every person in this town. I've raised my kids here because it's safe. This is the second time Broadchurch has had to face murder in a two year period, and we get two murders this time. People are frightened and want answers. They're afraid that the killer won't stop with tourist girls but will move on to a local one. I have friends with daughters Daisy's age, and I promised I would find the answers to keep them safe. I want to keep this town safe, and ease the minds of current and future tourists. After thinking about leaving I stayed here for my sons because they didn't deserve to have their lives uprooted any further. As a DS yourself, you should know that anyone who interferes in the investigation can be tossed in a cell, and I'm here to tell you that you are a hair's breadth away from me slapping the cuffs on both of you and hauling you off for obstruction. Then I'd have Social Services sit with Daisy while I questioned her, on tape – including about why you wouldn't cooperate. But having said that, I'd much rather we kept this on a professional level of behaviour, wouldn't you?"

She knew the words were dangerous, but she also knew that they had appearances to keep up. And there was an audience.

Tess and Bruce scowled before they glanced at Daisy. "She doesn't leave our sight."

"Fine." Ellie turned and held out her hand, her face breaking into a genuine smile even before it was returned. "Hello. Shall we take a little walk?"

Daisy nodded, eyeing the two people who were giving her hard glares before she joined Ellie, the chemist's bag still in her hands.

As they walked Ellie took her own measure of Daisy. She had so much of Hardy in her, including the look in her eyes. It reminded Ellie of how he had looked when he asked to say good night to Tom and Fred before his operation, when he was uncertain if he would make it. And she looked at how the clothes fell on the girl's body. Crohn's, Hardy had said. The reason for her weight gain. But with a woman's eye Ellie thought the clothes almost looked like they were chosen to conceal just where the weight was being gained.

But without proof she was just speculating. And the human body was known for doing odd things when least convenient. Like hers. She had been expecting twins, but had been blessed with a smaller belly than she had had with Tom. And yet, Fred had made her look like she had been overdue with triplets. And Hardy, when he forgot to take his pills, had ankles that would put an elephant to shame.

She noticed that Daisy was also looking at her, but trying to not show it. Like she was very curious and afraid to let anyone know.

Ellie sat so Daisy was closer to the hotel entrance, which would mean she could look her way and not have her answers be lip read from that direction. The tension radiating from her was so present Ellie thought she could cut it with a knife. Pushing aside all worries, she smiled again, but tempered it with concern. "Not exactly the holiday you were expecting, I bet."

Daisy nodded, her grimness once again proclaiming her genetic heritage. "There's been two murders here since we arrived and another girl died up on the footpath. Everyone's on edge. And now my brother could die. And I can't even speak to my dad. It all hurts."

Ellie wanted to start with certain questions, but she decided to stick to the case to start. Maybe she could coax Daisy into easing her guard down just a little. "Louise's parents said they were meeting up with you here, and mentioned another friend coming to meet them. Did you all plan that?"

"Louise? You mean Louise Dusk? She hasn't arrived yet."

Ellie's mouth turned dry. "I'm afraid she has arrived. I don't know how best to tell you this, but your mum obviously hasn't told you."

"Told me what?"

"Louise died yesterday morning."

"What!" Daisy cried. "How?"

"From what we know it was an accident. She was allergic to a plant she touched and suffered anaphylactic shock."

Daisy whimpered and held back the tears.

For once Ellie thought the suspected truth, that it looked like a potential attack, might have been more comforting. Perhaps if everyone was not so scared. "I'm so sorry, Daisy."

Daisy shook her head, gazing out over the field that sloped down towards the sea. She took a breath and wiped her cheeks. "I've lost a friend before. At least Louise was spared that. She always expected to die from her allergies." She sniffed bravely. "Sorry."

"No. Take your time. My questions can wait if you need time."

"You're investigating two murders, what time is there before whoever did it strikes again?" Daisy reasoned. "Better to get it done now. I might hold vital information. Isn't that what you're here for?"

Ellie said nothing.

"I didn't see the first girl more than a passing glance in the hotel foyer. And the second girl; wasn't she the German girl?"

Ellie nodded.

"I didn't see much of her either. And, no, I didn't plan on coming here. My mum planned it and told me. I went along with it, hoping I could come down and meet up with my dad. She contactedLouise and Hailey. I was afraid to ask. Bruce wasn't even supposed to be here. In fact as soon as he heard my friends were coming he muscled in. I hate him. But my mum was adamant that she was taking a holiday with us and not him. Even though she hates going on holiday."

"Why?"

Daisy clasped her hands togetherin a way that was very familiar to Ellie. "She's always hated small towns. Not a fan of the sea, either."

Ellie suspected there was more to the story, but moved on. "Did anyone else know about you coming?"

"My mum said she'd written to Louise and Hailey, but she told me that neither of them could come. Until Bruce found the replies. I called Louise from a friend's house and heard she was coming, but Hailey didn't answer."

Ellie leaned in a little and angled her head to catch her eyes. "What's her name?"

Daisy hesitated, but exhaled the answer. "Hailey Bridgewater." She glanced at her, as if looking for signs of recognition. She hoped to find none, because that meant Hailey was still alive.

"If you're wondering where she is, she's not popped up on our screens. That means she's probably safe," Ellie told her, though she was guessing. "You might have missed her here. I know some people have gone home or gone elsewhere. It happens when you get a murder. People shy away."

"She's in trouble," Daisy blurted out. "I've been trying to find my dad, because I know he would help. And Hailey really needs help. Something happened. She said she was scared. But that was months ago."

"Then if she calls you, let us know," Ellie told her, but wondered if those words weren't Daisy's cry for help. But she couldn't work out what she would be scared of. "We'll place her in a safe house. You know what that is?"

Daisy nodded and sighed heavily. "Witness protection." She was trying to look like she was crying, but Ellie caught the flash of relief in her eyes.

"Did you get to speak to Sarah Wallace at all, when you got here?"

"Yeah, at the hotel the day we arrived. I showed off Ben to her, like he was a trophy. It was stupid, really, but Ben's my little soldier. Even my mum greeted her with a smile."

"She doesn't smile much?"

"Not really. Bruce just argues with her all the time. I don't think my mum has much to be happy about. So getting out for a few minutes to talk to someone new was fun."

"What did you talk about?"

"Nothing much, because I was tired. I don't travel well. But we chatted about school mostly and MTV. I kept asking her questions about the things girls my age always talk about. I don't have friends at home who share my taste in music."

"Did you hit it off, then, with Sarah?"

"Not really, she was shy. She did mention that she liked Olly Murs. I'm not a fan."

"Did she ask you any questions?"

"Yeah, but my mom or Bruce tend to answer for me."

"They don't let you speak for yourself?"

She shook her head.

Ellie decided this was as good a time as any. "What about your real dad? Why can't you talk with him?"

Daisy looked at her for a long moment, definitely assessing her. Finally her face fell into a pout. "Mum doesn't want me to. Says Dad walked out on us and I shouldn't even speak to him."

"Do you agree with her?"

She shook her head, ever so slightly but with decided conviction.

"When's the last time you saw or spoke to your dad?"

"It was on my thirteenth birthday, when he gave me a mobile. We spoke twice. Then..." She cut herself off and cleared her throat. "The most recent was... yesterday morning, when I saw him at the hospital. That was the first I ever heard about his heart. Is it true that he had to get a pacemaker?"

The eyes were begging for answers, even though she was not giving enough of them. Ellie nodded sadly. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

Daisy's eyes watered. "My mum claimed to that reporter that he'd had a breakdown."

So she hadoverheard that. Ellie could not completely conceal a frown this time. "As far as I can tell, the only thing that might make him break down is the thought that you want nothing to do with him. The lack of contact has hurt him."

"How do you know?"

"It's less what he says and more what he doesn't say. Or what he says with his eyes and face when he forgets to control his expressions."

"You work with my dad?"

She nodded again. "He's the DI here."

Daisy swallowed like she had something caught in her throat. She lowered her voice to an even quieter whisper. "Are you his new wife?"

Ellie blinked, barely controlling her reaction. She did not hesitate with her answer though. "Yes."

"Do you love him? Will you never hurt him or try to cut him off from his own child?"

"I would never do any of that. The man is a right pain and a bit of a bully professionally, but he's a good man and I fell for him. Much easier and sooner than I care to admit to."

"Did those feelings exist before your first marriage ended?"

Ellie slowly leaned forward to clasp her hands between her knees. Make it look like she was contemplating her next question. "This is embarrassing, but yes. The... spark in my first marriage had been gone for a while, and I didn't want to admit it. Your dad and I had to keep things quiet until they couldn't be."

"You had twins together, right?"

Ellie straightened and looked Daisy right in the eye. "How do you know when your mother seems ignorant of who I am to him?"

"I've seen you in town with two babies. I don't know how my mum doesn't know, but I know because of a local girl. Chloe's her name."

"Chloe Latimer?"

"Yes. I've spoken to her a couple of times. She told me loads about my dad." She sucked in a breath. "He told the truth when he said he wants to hear from me, didn't he?"

"Of course."

She took a deep breath, and then another. After a moment she asked, "Do you have any other questions about the case to keep me here?"

"That's it. But... I want you to know something. If your mother has actively prevented you from contacting your dad, if you tell me or any authority here about it then your dad could go back to the court. He's your father. He has the right to see you. Or, if you wanted, he could fight for custody. He couldn't before, but he can now."

Her eyes had a longing look, but it was chased by panic. "I can't leave Ben all alone. I won't."

"Your dad is still named on Ben's birth certificate, apparently. Your mother never changed it. I've watched him lately, and I think he's beginning to doubt the results of the paternity test. Just don't tell anyone I said that. But if he contested it and it turned out Ben is your father's son, he would include Ben in that demand. At the very least, he could convince a judge to force your mother to accept regular contact between you two."

Daisy looked like she did not like that thought.

Ellie noticed, and considered what she thought was going on. "I'd give you my card, but I suspect it will be... taken. Am I right?"

The answer was a slow nod.

"Then if you need to talk, ask Becca Fisher to call me. I can talk your mother into letting me speak with you again, officially, and she couldn't stop me. If there's anything you need to tell us, including about what you know about Hailey's situation, or if you saw something or know something about the murders, have Becca call."

"Why aren't you asking now?"

"I have a feeling you know more than you're saying. I've heard things, Daisy, about the gangs. Why didn't you call the police or go to the local police station at home?"

Daisy shuddered. "I don't know who I can trust there. They all work with my mum. They know me."

"And it's been that way for a while for you, in Sandbrook?"

She nodded.

Ellie exhaled deeply, but kept it through her nose to conceal from observers her real reactions. "Okay. Anything more and I need the interview to be recorded. Can you mother sit in on that?"

"No!" she whispered suddenly. The force seemed to startle her.

To keep her calm Ellie merely nodded. "Okay. I'll see about getting a little more evidence, and then we'll come back insisting that you come to the station. We'll have Social Services sit with you, and you can talk about _anything_ you want."

"Anything?" she whimpered.

"Anything."

Daisy almost smiled. "Chloe said you're a cool mum."

Ellie smiled back. "I'll be sure to thank her. And remember, if you feel unsafe for any reason, tell Becca. She'll call us and we'll hurry over. All right?"

She nodded.

Ellie led her back slowly, choosing to talk a little more before they came into earshot. "What's the hospital saying about your brother?'

"They said he has arrhythmia and needs a pacemaker. And that it's likely genetic. They've asked Bruce his family history, but he's avoiding answering."

Strange and stranger, thought Ellie as she kept a thoughtful look on her face.

"Here we are," Ellie said. "Daisy, thank you for your time. I promise we won't stop until we've found who killed your friend."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"We'll be in touch if we need to ask more questions."

With that Tess considered the interview completely over. "Of course."

Daisy stood her ground. "Why didn't you tell me Louise had died?" she demanded of her mother.

Tess blanched. "I didn't know,love," she said genuinely. "Honestly, I didn't know. All I've heard so far around here is rumours, and you don't need that. So I didn't tell you. But, honestly, I swear I didn't know it was your friend." She put a guiding hand on Daisy's back and guided her back inside, and Bruce following them.

Anna watched with Ellie. "That girl is scared," she whispered. "Can't we do anything yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm getting closer. We need some kind of statement from Daisy to go to Social Services with. And more evidence from Sandbrook." She turned and led her off.

"Was it my imagination or does Tess literally not know you're remarried to Hardy?"

"You noticed. Well, I didn't keep the finger out of sight. She obviously didn't see how new they are. I have phone calls to make."

DC Broome looked back, but the trio were already inside.

/=/=/=/=/

"What did she ask you?" Bruce demanded in their room.

"About the two murders, whether I'd seen anything, and about my friend, Louise, and about when I spoke with Sarah that day we got here. Or with the German girl who looked like Louise."

Tess looked her daughter right in the eyes. "Anything else?"

Daisy met her gaze with her father's blank one. She had practiced it by watching him. "No."

Their eyes were locked in a staring match, which Bruce added to the pressure by staring at Daisy.

A knock came on the door. "Daisy?" Chloe called out.

Tess sighed and opened the door.

Chloe rushed forward, meeting Daisy halfway as they embraced. "I heard about your brother. Is he all right?"

Daisy knew Chloe hadheard sooner, but it covered how much they were really talking. And she noticed that Dean was with Chloe, so she felt a little better for her friend's safety. "He's in hospital. We haven't slept much."

"My mum's friend always says to stay awake until the evening, otherwise you mess up your body clock. Well, it works on jet lag, anyway."

"I'll try," Daisy determined.

"Come on," Chloe ushered. "You promised to see the photos I brought. It's been too long since I sat and shared silly pictures. And you look like you need a distraction and time with a friend."

"Won't be long, Mum. We'll just be downstairs." Daisy walked away quickly, and closed the door behind her.

Dean remained standing outside in the corridor, but was silent until the door was shut and they were walking a little away. "How are you holding up? You ok?"

"Sort of. It's so scary. With the murders and everything. They say she was killed in the next room. Is it true?"

Dean shrugged. "The police are telling everyone not to talk to the Press this time, so there's less rumours going around. Last time they made life hell."

"Last time?"

"When my little brother was murdered, there was a reporter," Chloe revealed. "Her name's Karen White. She caused a lot of trouble and a nice man killed himself."

"Oh my god, that's horrible. I don't like that woman."

"You know her?"

"Yeah. She's been hounding my dad for years. He never knew why."

/=/=/=/=/

Back in the room, someone else knocked on the door. Tess opened it, think it was quick for the girls to be back. But standing on the threshold was a familiar face.

"Oh my god. Mrs Dusk."

"I'm sorry if this is not a good time."

"No, do come in." She closed the door. "Bruce, this is Louise's mum."

Bruce stood stiffly by the window, looking across the room at her. "Morning," he said. "Sorry about your daughter."

Louise's mother nodded, keeping a tight hold, but a whimper escaped. "I wish I'd never told her to go off and explore."

"I'm so sorry," Tess told her in genuine sympathy. "Daisy was so looking forward to seeing her friends again."

Mrs Dusk nodded. "Louise was so excited. But we knew the risks and still came. I keep asking myself why she didn't use her epi-pen. And the police say it wasn't found with her. So I came to ask, because I know you're a police officer. What does that mean when they can't find something that should be there?"

"I'm guessing she dropped it," Tess said. "I'm not working on the case, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh," Mrs. Dusk looked lost. "I thought the police told each other everything."

"No, it doesn't work like that," Tess explained.

"We should get back to the hospital," Bruce suggested. He was unaccustomedly nervous, but hid it very well.

"Oh?" Mrs. Dusk spoke.

"My son was taken ill last night," Tess explained. "We haven't slept much."

/=/=/=/=/

Downstairs, Chloe and Daisy were in close cahoots over their photos. Daisy made the most of it since she rarely got to have her phone. They took pictures of each other and joked about, as carefree as she could possibly be. Until she yawned.

"You look like you're ready for bed."

"Sorry, it's been a long night."

"You won't be any help to your brother if you don't take care of yourself," Dean noted kindly.

"He looks up to you, like my Danny did to me," Chloe recalled. "So you'll just be worrying him when he needs to focus on getting better." Chloe looked at her, seeing the exhaustion in her face, and it reminded her of her mum after Danny died. "You need a good nap. Maybe even sleeping until tomorrow."

It was all Daisy could do to hide her relief. Even though it was just for the moment. "You're right. I am tired. I have this illness called Crohn's Disease. It takes a lot out of me, and I have to watch what I eat."

"Tell me about it," Chloe said. "My gran has diabetes. She can't have anything she used to like."

/=/=/=/=/

Mrs. Dusk looked at Tess. "How are you holding up?"

Tess smoothed her expression into an empty one. "Not the holiday we planned," she admitted. "But I suppose it's harder on you."

Mrs. Dusk nodded. "Just a little."

"If you want to talk... but I should get back to my son."

Mrs. Dusk nodded and clasped her hands. "I hope they find out who the killer is before they strike again. I wish they'd told us what was happening when we arrived. Louise might still be alive."

Tess clasped her hands in return. "I know. There must have been a reason why they didn't," she assured her. "Perhaps they had already arrested him? There haven't been any more attacks."

Mrs. Dusk nodded hopefully. "That is reassuring. I'll get back to my husband. He'll be wondering where I've gone. Bye."

"Bye." Tess closed the door again, troubled.

Bruce whispered in a hiss. "You're certain Daisy won't say anything about Louise to that girl?"

"And frighten a new friend who's already frightened? The whole town is scared stiff. No, me and Alec trained her too well. Besides, Daisy has been too occupied with Ben to care about what the world is doing. And as far as I know, Daisy knows nothing about your work problems."

"That DS; she could have said anything to her."

"Oh, stop your worrying! That woman was married to a child killer. I doubt she could fight her way out of a paper bag. We have nothing to worry about as long as you keep yourself together! And while we're at it, we should be talking to the doctors about your family's health."

"Still certain he's mine?"

Tess' eyes flashed in anger. "I was only with three men at that time, and you know it. You heard the test results. He has to be yours."

"Then stop him from calling your ex Daddy."

"That has to be Daisy's doing. She has to be telling him about her father, and he's assumed."

"Or she's _telling_ him that. And if she is, I'll put a stop to it. Where no one can overhear."

"Don't talk like that," Tess snapped. "There's enough on her shoulders already without you threatening her all the time. Now let's go back to the hospital before either of us says something too loud to be taken back!"

She stormed into the loo, and he stared after her, shaking. And rather pale for someone who's eyes flashed in anger.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	28. Episode 4, Part 4

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Four, Part Four: Calling In Re-enforcements<strong>

A torch was turned on, and hands slapped a blank paper on a flat surface on the ground, placing little nearby rocks on the edges to keep it in place.

The same hands tried to find a place to prop the torch, which took some creative thinking. It meant she could let the rocks slip aside if they failed to stay in place on their own.

A pen clicked, and Daisy took a deep breath. This might be risky, but it was the only way. Doing this in the hotel ran the risk of her mum and Bruce finding out. So she had to wait for them to go to sleep so she could slip out.

She began writing what she knew was the most important letter in her life. The whole time, she was praying on a whisper:

"Please, God, let this get to my dad. Help him to save us. We need a miracle. Amen."

Over and over, she whispered the prayer, pausing to look around to make sure no one was nearby. In the dark, who knew who was prowling?

And in this case, she knew it might be for real. Not that the alternative was better.

/=/=/=/=/

"What do you mean, there's no evidence leading to anything?!"

Brian Young had a lot of experience dealing with Ellie's temper, and he did not even flinch when she nearly exploded. "What I mean is, I'm not sure where this evidence is going to take us. The first girl gave use very little in usable evidence, and the second one only gave us traces of DNA. Enough for a comparison, but the DNA isn't a match for anyone in the system."

"And the third girl?"

"That wasn't murder."

"No, not that we can prove, but she _was_ raped," Ellie reasoned.

"We did a thorough check on her. No match there, either."

She stopped cold. "Wait, did that include the sample you took from the hospital? Or from our own records? He's on the system. We all are."

He nodded and found a smile. "Your husband's DNA does not match the DNA found under the victim's nails. We can confirm, he's not the person the victim scratched."

That made her sag into the nearby chair and exhale loudly. "Oh thank god!" She leaned forward and held her face with her hands.

Young waited for her to get through the relief.

Ellie slowly raised her head. "What about the evidence that seemed to link him to both girls? The physical evidence?"

"I think the only things tying him to the murders are that one particular photo found with Sarah Wallace and the fact that Luiz Gotlieb looks a lot like that fourth girl in the photo, the girl who died on the footpath. He sure as hell didn't leave that print found in the woods."

"But you did get a print?"

"Not very detailed, but I can tell you a few things about the person who wore them. Those shoes were brand new, hardly used. None of the DI's shoes are newer than six months, and he's put some marks on the bottoms. And the print didn't match any of your shoes, either. Also, I think Sarah Wallace's killer was wearing shoes bigger than they're used to wearing."

"Why?"

He moved beside her and showed photos from various angles. "Do you see how the pressure is lighter along the edges near the ball of the foot according to the shoe size?" He lowered a faint overlay of expected placement of a foot within that shoe size. "The ball of the killer's foot is markedly lower than it should be. I think the killer wore bigger shoes to throw us off. And the second print, found by the tree, made at the same time, is two sizes smaller."

"Significance?"

He showed her the photo and overlay for the second print. "This print is two sizes smaller than the other. And do you see the pattern of pressure?"

Ellie knew by the methodical way he was doing this that there had to be something. But she wasn't seeing it.

To save her face, Brian continued. "There is greater pressure along the ends of the toes and ball than at the heel," he explained. He looked at her face, trying to find a spark of realisation. "The killer is walking backwards," he filled in. "That probably led to them tripping."

"Any evidence from the root?"

"Hints of material from the shoe were lifted from the leaf litter and the dirt around it. There will be scuff marks on the shoes. If we can find those shoes, we'll have a match."

"Have we searched the dumpsters around the hotel?"

"Yes. We're also looking for all dustbins along the path from your house to the hotel. Anyone who had theirs out, we're checking with the Council to see where that was dumped. It's a long shot, and there are a lot of black bags to go through, but maybe we'll get lucky."

"I hope so. We've got so little to go on."

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I think it's looking less and less likely that the DI killed either of them."

"But do you agree that someone wants us to think he did?"

He grimaced. "The second one; no. For one thing, the DNA and other evidence don't match. But the first one; I'd stake my reputation on it that and say, yes. They tried very hard to make it look that way. As for the third one... the attack is too like the second one. I'll go so far as to say it was an accident that it looks like an accident."

She rubbed her hands. "Brian, I need a favour."

"Anything."

"I need you to go to the hospital and collect a sample from Ben Hardyin any legal yet discrete way possible."

He frowned and blinked. "What for?"

She wrung her hands. "You heard that he collapsed at the hotel the other night?"

"Yeah. I heard about that. What does that have to do with me?"

"Everyone knows how Hardy collapsed during a chase of a suspect. When I read Mark Latimer's witness statement, I... felt like I was reliving that moment. The details sounded too similar. And we're already watching Harry and Catherine for any heart condition, Harry especially since it sounds like sons are more likely to get them from their dads. The doctors confirmed it's a genetically inherited condition."

"But... wasn't there a DNA test that proved Ben wasn't Hardy's son?"

"After seeing a photo of him, hearing how he collapsed, and that they suspect a heart condition... I'm not sosure that test can be trusted. I want a new one run, and run quietly. I want it run by a lab that I trust won't let another sample replace the intended one."

"You suspect that Hardy's sample was switched for the other man's?"

"I need to know. Because if he is my husband's son, then... there may be grounds for him to force a new custody hearing. We've had another witness come forward, who said that they heard the boy say that Bruce Stratton is not his dad. There is something not right in that family, and I'm noticing that so far no one has been able to talk to Daisy about it properly."

"You're sure you're not just jealous of the ex?" he wondered gently.

Ellie almost smiled. "I've spent hours arguing with myself about that," she admitted. "But Hardy taught me well. Professional detachment. I know this has nothing to do with my feelings for him and my kids. And everything to do with this." She showed him a printout of a news article she had found on the internet.

The bold but small subtitle 'Sandbrook Lab shut down for an investigation into sample switching' was sprawled across the top.

Brian tensed. There was nothing he hated more professionally than technicians who made the evidence lie.

"That's where Hardy's paternity test was done," she continued as Brian read the article. "If there was foul play with that DNA test, it's possible that others were tampered with in Sandbrook. I need to know, because I'll need to contact them if our answer differs from theirs."

"It says they're only going back over the past two years. The boy is five, isn't he?"

"Almost five," she agreed. "But what if the meddling goes back further? What if it includes criminal cases? Including the Sandbrook case?"

"And you want me to find out? Might save us the effort of running a new test."

"Can you?"

"I have a relative who works there," he revealed. "I can ask."

"Perfect."

Young sighed. "Okay. In case we do need to run a new test I need a little time to make it happen. We'll need some order to obtain them, especially without letting the mother or the supposed father find out."

"I'll get you one, if you need it."

Brian turned away to leave, but then turned back with a grin. "Actually, no need. I have samples taken from their hotel room. Hair follicles from their hair brushes, with notes of which brush they were collected from. I'll send them over now."

Ellie smiled widely.

/=/=/=/=/

Moments later, Ellie was in her car driving up the hill to the High Street. She pulled into a parking space and hurried out, rushing toward the Broadchurch Echo.

Opening the door, she was immediately greeted by a distant one-time friend.

"Ellie."

She managed an awkward smile. "Hi, Beth. Where's Maggie? I need to talk with her."

Beth pointed to the back. "She and Olly have been holed up in the back room, going over something. They've both been making phone calls."

Ellie nodded thanks and began walking off.

"How's the family?"

She stopped, half surprised that Beth was being so civil. Cold, certainly, but civil. Even though she had been forgiven by the rest of the Town, Beth had done no such thing. She still felt a little uneasy, like what they had before was lost forever thanks to Joe. "We're a little on edge. The twins seem mostly ignorant and Fred is too focused on entertaining them. But Tom... he's too aware of what's going on. He's had nightmares since he found the body. Been sent home from school a couple of times."

Beth could read between the lines. There was tension in the marriage, but she knew better than to say anything in public. "Will you let your husband know that our door is open to both of you?"

That made her eyes widen. "Really?" She hadn't intended to make it sound so disbelieving, bit that's how it came out. On the other hand, Beth's words sounded wooden and someone else's. Probably Mark's.

In a way, that was surprising. Even though they had rebuilt enough trust following Mark's infidelity.

Beth shrugged. "He got us the answers we needed in the end. I know what people are saying, but... I know he's innocent. I've seen him with Tom and the others. He's not a killer. I want to help in any way I can."

Ellie found the source of her discomfort. Beth didn't want to say those words. In fact, she had omitted any trace of her in there. She hadn't forgiven her. And in truth she probably suspected Hardy more than anyone else, because in her mind, Ellie had already harboured one killer. Why not two? And Beth still blamed her. As a result, it was beyond Ellie to find a real smile. She was too gutted and lost without her friend to even pretend to take her words at face value.

Besides, she knew that her husband had been to the Latimer home. So her answer would be equally flat, letting Beth know that she was under no illusions about where they stood.

"Thank you. I'll let him know."

With that she walked to the back room, a little calmer than she was before, but still missing her friend. She obviously still had a long way to go before the undercurrent of suspicion was completely gone. Beth had highlighted how far she still had to go, and for that she was grateful.

Beth watched her go and sighed. Then, she turned back to her own desk. Grateful that she could at least say she had made an effort. No matter how distasteful it felt.

A moment later Maggie was having Ellie sit down with Olly, pouring some of the water they had just boiled into prepared mugs. "You've come for help."

"Yeah, a lot of it. I definitely need you to go to Sandbrook. I need to know more about Tess Hardy and Bruce Stratton, and not just what's on their work histories. There are a lot of unanswered questions about why the Sandbrook ties seem so strong between that case and mine. And I need information. How well did the girls in this photo know each other?" She handed them a copy of the photo that had started everything.

Olly blinked. "That one girl looks a lot like my uncle."

"That's his daughter from his first marriage. Daisy. Louise Dusk is another of the girls. Pippa Gilespie is another, and we suspect the fourth is a girl who's gone missing from Sandbrook. And then there's this one." She handed them a photo of several girls, the tension in their frames obvious. "This photo means something to someone, and I'm positive it was taken in Sandbrook given the scenery. Who are these girls and why do they all look haunted? And then there's Daisy. Has she been prevented from contacting her father? Is her mother treating her well? Her brother? What sort of a person is she really? Same for Stratton."

"Do you suspect them?"

"I have to consider a lot of people suspects, but I don't have the time to go to Sandbrook myself. Nor can I spare someone from the Broadchurch force to go. There are too many witnesses here to interview and keep in town. And while you're at it, see what Karen White was up to during the case and the aftermath. My instincts are telling me she has a grudge against my husband, but I don't even know where to start finding out why or even if I'm right."

"We're already looking into her past. How soon do you need us to go?" asked Maggie.

"As soon as you can."

Maggie glanced at Olly. "I told him to pack a bag just in case. He has it here. And I'm packed. Let me give some directions to the staff, and we'll be off."

Ellie grasped her hand. "Thank you."

"Thank us when we've helped solve your case and get that low-life who thinks she's the next Sir Robin Day off your husband's back."

"Thank you for that mental image. Now, I won't be able to have dinner."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	29. Episode 4, Part 5

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Four, Part Five: Road Trip<strong>

It was getting dark, but the old Ford Fiesta churned along to the determination of its driver and passenger. Traffic was light and the weather held. Which meant they would make good time unless someone else made a stupid decision.

In the front passenger seat, Olly was on his phone. And had been almost the whole way. "Okay, so where do we start?"

Maggie had been thinking about this the whole time. Olly had been checking news sources about the cases since the story was breaking. It took longer than with Danny. Probably helped that the first victim was not reported to the town for an entire day, and almost none of the first witnesses had smart phones. If you could call them witnesses. A family scared out of their minds what this would do to their reputations and to their children, the eldest of which had found the body; a milkman who had been almost shunted off the road by a dark-coloured car driving with its lights off and the postman who heard what he thought was two people having sex in the field behind the hotel, although he had added that it could have been hedgehogs. Given that it was a bit late for hedgehogs, Maggie could probably guess that it was humans. Given her hunches, she could probably discount them all, but she wasn't in police.

"Well, first thing is, we meet with my friend who will give us a place to stay. He's also a contact who can open doors for us locally. We need to conduct a lot of research and he's the man to help us find everything we need. Then I think we locate where Daisy lives. I doubt her mum moved too far and is probably still in the area, so we can find who she spends her time with. Those people will give us insight into both her situation and her mother. Then there's the lady who owned the house where the stolen evidence was hidden. She has to be connected to the case. Whoever stole the purse and evidence had access to that shed, and the reports suggested that there was no break-in there. Some of the research my friend can help with should provide some if not all of the answers."

"You think this woman who owned that house might be related to the thief?"

"There was speculation that Trevor Medley paid someone to steal the evidence, and there was a cash withdrawal that no one has been able to account for, given that he was in prison around that time. So, who had his bank card? I want details about the pendant being found - although the new owners of the house have no connection to him; I do know that was checked."

"What about a connection to Sandbrook police? I mean, why did they rob that car on _that_ day? It can't be a coincidence."

"Well, from our interview with Hardy back when the search was still on for Danny's killer I'd say that he suspected then that something was off. But the poor man was trying to protect his daughter from learning how little respect her mother had for him, and how broken he was by his wife."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Maggie replied. "When he first arrived he had the vibes of a man missing a woman. I know these things."

"You're gay."

"Doesn't mean I don't notice," she defended. "Besides, I'm bi, if you must know."

Olly sighed. "Ok. I bet he only delayed things. He might've got custody of his daughter if he'd spoken up. Instead he got extra stress that couldn't have helped his heart."

"It's not our place to question his actions or motives in that case. What we're interested in is whether there are any real ties between Sandbrook and the girls murdered in Broadchurch. I bet there is some link to there that may explain why they were targeted. It's like they were expected to arrive. Sarah was taken just one hour after arriving; Luiz Gotleib was attacked within three hours of arriving, and Louise Dusk within minutes. That means there was premeditation. They were expected."

"But, how can that be since they didn't know each other?"

"Luiz and Louise? I'm guessing one or the other was a case of mistaken identity. Their faces were very similar. And given all the Sandbrook ties, I'm suspecting the mistaken idenity was Luiz. Ellie confirmed that it was Louise in that photo."

"But what about the first girl, Sarah Wallace? Where does she come into it?"

"No idea. And the method used to kill her differs to the other two."

"So, if we put her death aside for the moment, one or the other Louise is linked to Sandbrook?"

"I'd bet my life on it."

"You know, I'd almost say the link is Daisy Hardy, not her father. I hope my aunt can get a statement from her. I bet she's keeping secrets. And I don't think that third death was an accident, by the way. Don't know about you, but that's my thoughts on the matter."

Maggie gave a thoughtful hum. "Given that someone seems to have made two attempts to kill one of Daisy's friends and one more has died since. _And_ they may have been planning to meet on their respective holidays, _and_ one of her friends was murdered in Sandbrook. I think that's a safe bet that none of this, now, is a coincidence, any more than Hardy's car being broken into. We just have to prove it, even if it fails to bring her father back into the investigation on the right side of things."

"Okay, so what else? When do we speak with the Sandbrook police directly?"

"Not until I feel we've found out all we can about Tess, Bruce, Daisy, Ben, Sarah, Louise and Luiz in a timely manner. If we have any reason to suspect either Tess or Bruce of foul play I want to make sure that we know who's in charge and whether there are any friends of theirs who might try to cover their tracks for them."

"Just in case any evidence or forms could vanish."

"Exactly."

"What about that contact you used when we looked up Susan Wright? Have you reached out to him?"

"Yes, he's one of my contacts. My most important one for our purposes. I gave him the names I have, and asked him to find whatever he can. Luckily, my friend has email, so we will get his findings quickly. Although he's not the one we go through first."

"So... who is this friend in Fleet Street?"

Maggie turned ever so slightly pink. "An old flame, if you must know. And we'd appreciate it if you didn't ask, talk or hint about it."

Olly's eyes widened. He thought for a moment before slowly turning back to his phone. "I'll look up some more numbers for us."

"That will help."

They were quiet after that, each focused on their own thoughts. Or in one case trying to focus on something related to the case. The motorway, although the shortest route between two points, still gave them long enough to plan their trip carefully.

/=/=/=/=/

Miller was working late again. She spoken to her babies on the phone, not that Tom liked to think he was her baby, he was thirteen after all, but her husband thought it was funny. He wished she would come home soon so he could show her the expression Tom had on his face.

Ellie apologised profusely but she had to crack this, or at least have some idea, before she'd let it lie for the night.

She didn't tell him she had set the Broadchurch aside on a hunch that something was not quite right about the Sandbrook case. Something was niggling at the back of her mind, something that linked the two. And she had to find it. It wouldn't let her rest.

She'd got that from him. They way he'd worked on the Latimer case. The way he threw himself at it, night after night, until it buckled and revealed its secrets to him. She knew she would have to do the same.

She was going through the notes on the break-in. Break-ins were notoriously hard to solve unless there were prints. Car thefts were so common that police often just logged the crime and moved on. It was tough love, but there were far too many to concern themselves with. And this one, Hardy's car, seemed to fit the same bill. Except that it was a police officer's car and there were evidence bags involved.

And even on the first page of the owner's statement Ellie found inconsistencies; the timing, the location, the lack of prints. Why was she there? Why had she taken her husband's car and not her own? The fact that her statement didn't exactly match Hardy's was more than just a hint of something not quite right. She found subtle lines that suggested a cover-up, a framing; a deliberate act.

If it had hadn't been set up to deliberately discredit Hardy and get him off the case or at the very least get the case dropped, then it was a very clever way to make his ex wife look like a really bad rooky. It had to be an inside job. DS Lover, there was no mention of a name, had called her in for a drink. Bloody long drink. She was at the hotel for two hours. Drink and sex, then?

Was he involved in the robbery, or was that just bad timing? And what about the man she was with now? Where did he fit in? He worked at Sandbrook Labs at the time Ben was born. She could tell that from the dates. The same man who was being investigated for fiddling with the samples.

So, did he have any connection to the break-in? Or, does he know who did? According to Alec Hardy's own statement, he suspected his wife was not just having an affair with another police officer, but also a third man, though he had no idea who he was. Ellie suspected it was Bruce Stratton.

And how did Trevor get involved? Ellie found bank statements for Trevor going back a couple of years. He was receiving payments in the thousands, she couldn't say what for. Paid in cash. It wasn't just the amounts, it was the timing. Three of them coincided with the deaths of the Sandbrook girls. One she could dismiss, but three was just not random. And then there were several more for which there was no clue, right up until Trevor was finally arrested and retried.

But that wasn't the oddest thing. Someone had withdrawn money from Trevor's account six days after he was sent to prison. Who? Strangely, it seemed that Bruce Stratton had paid into his bank account the exact amount withdrawn from Trevor's account. Coincidence? Ellie no longer believed in coincidence. And that meant that his arrival in Broadchurch, just hours before a murder, sounded very suspicious to her.

Except for one small fact. Yes, he was being investigated for a very errant genetic testing and mislabelled samples, but his police record was so lily white, Ellie feared she would need shades to look at it. No DUIs, no speeding, no violent offences, no drunk and disorderly. He had lived under radar.

Except that he was related to Trevor Medley. On his mother's side. Guilty by association. And who was this Godfrey Ghosh fellow? Bruce was getting money from him too. For Ellie, the case was getting weirder and weirder. But she just knew it was connected. And then there was the selfie photograph of the girls in Sandbrook High street. Daisy, Hailey and Louise.

Bingo.

In the background was a man who looked like Bruce Stratton, taking something from another man, secreting it under their jackets, as if they wanted no witnesses. The second man was Asian or Asian descent, 5'6'' tall, judging by how tall he was compared to Stratton, short cropped hair.

Ellie peered closely at it, but couldn't make it out. That was the problem when you blew up photos, you lost resolution. She slipped the original out from the folder and got a magnifying glass from her drawer to get a better view.

Money. In a large roll. And there was something else. Someone was standing behind Gosh, further back into the distance, some ten or so metres. And behind him stood a girl, hard to make out, since there was little of her visible around the man's huge frame.

And there was something eerily familiar about the man

/=/=/=/=/

They stopped briefly in north Croydon to pick up the information from the local press office in Sandbrook, and then continued on towards London. Another twenty-five minutes and they could get out and stretch. This surprised Olly. He hadn't even checked the Sandbrook papers yet. He rifled through them as Maggie drove and quickly established two key features.

"Nothing on Sarah Wallace or a Luiz Gotleib," he said. "I've just had a nasty thought. What if Sarah Wallace wasn't killed by the same killer, but the two know each other?"

"Like an adult game of dares?" Maggie was silent for a moment. "That is very London, but not Broadchurch. Why bring that all the way down there?"

"Less noticeable?" he offered. "He could have come down, killed the first girl and then left. Maybe he's long gone before the second killer made his move."

"But if it was a man, why hide her in a policeman's garden? Why make it look so meticulously planned and then walk away. It shouts out, 'here I am, look what I've done?' And why didn't he sexually assault her?" she reasoned. She remained quiet for a moment. "But still, attacking the girls within such a short space of time from their arrival."

"Oh," Olly realised. "The killer had to have been in town. Louise had to have been taken as her family booked in. So the killer had to have been staying at the Trader's, been moved to the B&B and attacked from there. And now he's back at the Trader... where Daisy is..."

Maggie glanced at him. Without making it obvious, she stepped on the accelerator, driving just this side of legal all the way to Fleet Street. She might have jumped a couple of lights as well; not that she'd counted.

They were in Southwark by the time Olly found a bank statement at the bottom of the box. He held it up and read through the incomings and outgoings. "Interesting. Trevor's bank statement. He had several thousand pounds paid into his account from a man called Godfrey Ghosh."

"Add his name to your list. What company is he from?"

"Doesn't say. And there's no statement document that mentions him, either."

"Census records."

"We can't access those."

"The public ones you can. Len will know which library to check. And Mick will know how he fits into the Sandbrook case."

"Will it jeopardise the conviction of Trevor Madley?"

"I doubt it. That case was a sight as a duck's arse."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	30. Episode 4, Part 6

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Four, Part Six: Secrets In Storage<strong>

"I've given you my side," Tess interjected. She did not like this journalist. In her mind they were all the same and in the same league as lawyers. "Blood-sucking leeches, that's what you journalists are. Like lawyers and mortgage lenders."

"Your story is wildly dissimilar to what's on record," Karen persisted.

"I can't help it if you believed a lying, conniving git like my ex-husband. Look at his track record and then come and tell me who's wrong," Tess challenged.

Karen didn't believe her, but she had to have the story. Her next pay check was riding on this. And she had a hunch that what she knew and what Olly knew were both far from the truth, let alone the complete picture.

Tess eyed her across the table. "Look, I can't give you more than that. I have my kids to think about. You probably don't know what that means, but trust me, you put anything in any paper anywhere that jeopardises them and their future you'll live to regret it for the rest of your miserable excuse for a life." She saw Karen flinch, at least she thought it was a flinch. It certainly looked like one. "But there is something you can do."

"What?" Karen asked neutrally.

"Find out who Alec Hardy is shacked up with. Warn her that my ex-husband will drag her down into hell with him when he fails this investigation like he did Sandbrook. She'll be the laughing stock of the country. Just like I was. I don't know who she is, but I wouldn't want this hell heaped on her. And tell her from me, make she he puts something on the end of it. Coz if she gets pregnant by him, God help her. Coz if she doesn't... I'll be the one laughing at her the loudest."

/=/=/=/=/

Karen read through her article and slid the title in place. DI HARDY IN NEW FAILURE THREAT. She was feeling pretty pleased with this one. All the failures in the Sandbrook case were underlined and parallels with the Broadchurch case were obvious.

But this time, not a single person in the town was talking to her. She found that annoying. Not even Beth Latimer was going anywhere near her. That was more upsetting than she cared to admit.

There was a chink in the armour somewhere. She just had to find it. Someone was hiding something. Probably several people were hiding something. But most of all, Hardy was hiding everything. In her article she even noted that he had denied anything to do with the murder investigation. He denied being the officer in charge and he denied knowing anything. That wasn't just annoying or upsetting, that was downright offensive to the families of the victims. And she had included that.

On a personal level, how dare he? On a professional level, how dare he?!

Karen clicked send. She waited for her editor to read it. She knew he was there, was still pinging her skype for the article. The skype box stopped pinging for fifteen minutes. She allowed a comfortable smirk to spread across her face. She doubted he would print it in its present form. She knew from experience that he could and did do the dirty on reporters all the time if it suited his purposes. This time she had gone the extra ten miles to kick the dirt in Hardy's face. That should keep Len Danvers happy.

After twenty minutes she still had no answer. Now she was getting impatient. How long did it take for him to read the article, for god's sake? Was he writing a critique? Rewriting the article anyway? For another forty minutes she sat waiting, but by then she had decided that perhaps he had decided to drop the article altogether. Drop the dead donkey on page eight of an even deader donkey and relegate this one to the sports pages.

Reporters were sportsmen of a sort. They hounded people for their own delight, much like a hound went after a rabbit. Or perhaps pointer was closer. They honed in on a target and sat there staring at it for hours, days, months, even years until it withered and gave up its secrets for the lascivious and sadistic joys of the Press. Tess Hardy was right. She was a leech. And she loved it.

Finally there was a ping in her message box. "_Love it. You got page two._"

Page two? Page two?! Karen could not have believed her luck. It was a world better than a page thirteen footnote. Not quite as good as front page, but she was pleased. People paid more attention to the first few pages and generally skimmed the rest until they got to the sports pages. And she'd made the early edition. That meant it would get a mention in the televised reviews.

Still, she schooled herself. She would wait until she saw the paper in the morning. Until then, she would not celebrate. She had to see it with her own two eyes.

/=/=/=/=/

Olly stepped out of the car and stretched his legs. He gazed all around him at the London skyline and then realised what he must have looked like. The 'country bumpkin's first trip into something bigger than a farmyard' look dropped off his face and he mirrored the one on Maggie's. Determined, strong, in control.

He had learned so much from her. And she had trusted him with her contacts, and they with their protégés. He felt like he was finally getting somewhere in journalism. And he also felt as if his newspaper – because the Broadchurch Echo was his newspaper, or could be one day – was really beginning to feel as important as the dailies in the company chain.

"Where to first?" he asked.

Maggie gave him an appreciative smile. He had enthusiasm and the right questions. She liked that. After this mess was cleared up she was definitely retiring. Olly would be her replacement. If she had any say in the matter. And she'd kick up stink if she didn't. And if some outsider came in and took his place she'd kick up a bigger stink.

She'd tell them straight. This boy was asking 'first'. Not, what do we do, or who do I talk to. But where first? That meant he had a list already prepared.

"We'll speak to Walking Encyclopaedia first, but we might actually see Len Danvers first," she replied. "It depends on who greets us at the door.

"Walking Encyclopaedia," Olly lifted a sardonic brow.

Maggie gave him a knowing smirk. "You'll see. What he doesn't know can be written on an electron's arse."

Olly tried to equate that to a specific number of facts, but decided that there couldn't be an actual number. Either that, or Maggie was exaggerating. He dismissed that thought as fast as he could think it. Maggie never exaggerated. She was understated in everything. That made him eager to meet this old friend of Maggie's. He had to be an utter genius.

"How many favours will we be in debt with after this?" he mused to himself.

"None," Maggie replied. "I'm owed plenty. And don't get any preconceived ideas about Fleet Street from your local rag upbringing. It's as cut-throat here as piracy and murder on a career level as you can get. Here, you're the victim if you let them get to you. And you'd be dead, professionally, before you realise it."

Olly paled. She wasn't joking. He managed a brave nod. Which surprised him. He wasn't feeling particularly brave. He followed her towards the entrance of the tall building and they were met by the receptionist.

The woman, mid-thirties, red lipstick and straw-coloured hair tied back into a pony, looked up. She smiled nicely. "I'm sorry. This is the staff entrance-"

Her words came to a sudden halt as both Olly and Maggie drew out their IDs for her to see. Olly felt as though he had stepped into an American cop show. And strangely, it worked.

"How may I help you?" the woman asked in the same friendly 'you're not getting passed me' tone.

"I'd like to see Len Danvers, please," Maggie replied.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. You need an appointment to see the editor."

"I'm his ex wife. Trust me, I don't need an appointment."

Olly's shocked face snapped in as if on cue. He quickly relegated it to wide-eyes and hoped the receptionist didn't notice. He followed Maggie as she marched directly for the lifts behind the desk. As they stood in the lifts and the doors closed before the steel box rose upward, Olly let go of the breath he was holding.

"I didn't know you were married," he whispered, just in case the lift was bugged or something.

"A long time ago, before you were even born. The world was a different place then and you did things for appearances and not for the heart."

Olly was shocked. "So... you were a token wife?" He was disgusted by the idea.

"More like he was token husband. Back then women didn't become editors. I was the real power behind the editor's chair. But when it became public, I had no choice but to leave. They gave me the Echo. Made it look like it was the top prize. And it was anything but. I was finished; whitewashed by the command structure. Fleet Street is still a man's world, Olly, so watch your step. If they think you're a boy you'll be thrown to the dogs. This is the man who rewrote Karen's article on Jack Marshall. And if he can do that to her, he can do that to you. Show some spine and you'll survive the day and gain his respect."

Olly swallowed dryly, wondering if he had come along as the sacrificial lamb or the white flag. He straightened his tie and smoothed down his jacket and hoped he looked better than either.

Seconds later, the lift opened on the top floor and they walked out onto the main editorial floor. Olly took a look around him at the clean desks the airy feel of the place and the numerous up-to-date computers. There wasn't a box of newspapers, articles or research material anywhere to be seen. He paled further, almost turning green at the sterility of the place. He wondered if any of these poor sods had even run after a story in their entire professional lives. And to think he almost stepped into their shoes and joined them. He felt sick.

"Maggie. What a pleasant surprise," a voice spoke. "You haven't changed a bit."

Len Danvers stood there, suit and tie, suave, controlled and in his sixties. He owned the floor, in the professional sense. This wasn't just his paper. It was his empire.

"Neither have you," Maggie replied. "Except you employed Karen White, while I'm trying to _save_ lives."

Len's smile began to falter. "What's she done now?"

"She's trying to stitch up an innocent policeman, but this time she's gone after his wife, his ex wife and his kids."

Len's expression did not change, but his eyes crackled with anger. "I'm on skype with her now. Apparently she's written an article about DI Hardy."

Maggie did not show the inward groan, or the flinch it evoked. "Have you answered her?"

"I haven't read it yet."

"Read it," Olly invited. "And then I'll tell you how far off the truth she is."

"Who are you and why would I take your word for it?" Len asked.

Olly showed him his Press pass, just because it seemed like the right thing to do. "I'm from the Broadchurch Echo. DI Hardy is my uncle."

Len paused for a second before beckoning them both to his office. He took a seat and they hovered at a shoulder each as he opened the article Karen had just emailed to him.

"What the fuck?" Olly blurted out. He wasn't usually moved to swear, but his blood boiled. "None of this is true. For one thing, DI Hardy is not working on the murder case, let alone the officer in charge. My aunt is. DS Miller, Hardy's wife."

"How do you know that?" Maggie asked in surprise.

"You're not the only one with contacts, Maggie," Olly informed her. "And no, I'm talking about my Aunt. It came from Chloe Latimer and Daisy Hardy." He looked at Len, held his gaze for a second and indicated the computer. "May I?"

Len stood up and allowed Olly to take his chair. On sitting down, Olly began at once to shift and move the sentences around. Just as Karen had taught him, irony of ironies. When he had done, he stood up for Len to retake his chair. He read the second draft and looked up at the young man.

"You're sure you want to turn down that job offer?"

Olly noted a strong edge of respect and admiration in the man's voice. He accepted it without comment.

Len changed the name of the author to Oliver Stevens, and clicked send, sending it to the setters downstairs. He then wrote a reply to Karen, waiting back in Broadchurch. "_Love it. You got page two._"

"Oh god, pinch me if I have a chuckle," Maggie mused, but her face showed no sign of humour.

"She deserved it. I warned her that her corrupt idea of facts would bite her in the arse one day. But god, you must want to kill her career with this one, son."

Olly kept his face impassive. "She used me for her own ends."

Len nodded slowly. Those words were enough to convey all he needed to know. "What did you come all this way for?" he wondered. "Not to leave Karen White high and dry, surely? You could have done that from the Echo."

"No," Maggie admitted. She faced her ex, still feeling the affection she once had for him linger in the unswept corners of her mind. "Get me access to everything you know about the Sandbrook case and DI Hardy and I'll give you back your wife." She did not let on that she had had a woman to be proud of for all those years since. She did not let on how losing her had left her devastated and empty for the passed month.

"You know how to drive a hard bargain." Len stood up and led them through the mezzanine level of the floor and through to the rooms beyond. Phones trilled, emails buzzed and skype pinged. It looked like utter chaos. Beyond it was a darker room, one that Olly recognised immediately.

Boxes, boxes, boxes. And a man who was converting each one into digital form. Methodically and carefully. He turned and drew his glasses off, gazing at Maggie in warm greeting.

"Well, well, well," he spoke slowly. "If it isn't Magpie News herself."

"Hello, Mick," Maggie replied. "Olly, this is Mick Oxford, the Walking Encyclopaedia."

Olly stuck out his hand. "Olly Stevens. Pleased to meet you."

Mick grasped his hand and pumped it with gentle interest. "And you. What can I do you for?"

"Everything you have on Sandbrook, DI Hardy, Tess Hardy and Bruce Stratton. Every detail, even if it looks irrelevant, I want it. Right down to the bone."

"That might take a while," Mick warned.

"Maggie says you're the man with the access. If she's wrong, then perhaps you had better tell her that," Olly said.

Len shrank back a step, pursed his lips and surreptitiously eyed Maggie's blank face. Olly was not just standing his own, but putting Mick's words back into his mouth.

"We have no idea when the murderer will strike again," Olly continued. "My instincts tell me it's related to the Sandbrook case. It might not be the same murderer, but it is connected. I want to bag a child killer, Mr. Oxford. Do we go elsewhere? Or do you earn the nickname your reputation gave you?"

Maggie remained silent. That was one huge bluff to call. Except that it was no bluff. Olly was the coolest and most mature she had ever seen him. In fact it was a double bluff. She knew Mick. Every unsolved case, every police error and he had them stashed in his personal collection of files and folders, paper documents and digital copies.

"I'm in," Mick told him. "I have them in my personal office."

That surprised Len. He didn't know about this.

Mick stepped over to a cubby-hole on the far right and drew out a large cardboard box marked FILE SAFE on the side. He lifted the lid and inside it was stuffed full of document boxes, two layers of ten, each with a label on the leading edge. "This is one of them," he said. "There are three more."

"Then, we better gets started," Olly decided, taking out his notebook, pen and camera phone.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	31. Episode 4, Part 7

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Four, Part Seven: Gone<strong>

The day was hot and the family had finally hit the beach together. Well, a little one set up in the children's hospital garden. They had a swing and a sea-saw and a little paddling pool, and a small pretend beach in a box. The kids loved it. It gave a bit of 'at the beach and not in hospital' feel to desperate ill and long term patients, with the added benefit of being close to a doctor if needed. A nurse was at her station, just in side the door and a nursery nurse was busy looking after all the needs of the three children in the play area.

Kneeling on the rubber surface that surrounded the 'beach', Daisy busied herself with making sure Ben was covered in sun lotion from head to toe. He had only been allowed out an hour before and his mum had wanted him to make the most of it. He had to go back to bed again later and be hooked up to his monitors again, just in case.

Daisy had him sitting on her lap the whole time. She ignored Bruce's complaints. She had a ray of hope in her heart that even her bully of a step-dad couldn't shake. She had barely been in Broadchurch for five minutes and she had already made a friend. And she knew her other friends would come soon. She was sure of it. Chloe had kept her word so far.

And maybe they had the wrong girl and it wasn't Louise at all? Even the police made mistakes, didn't they? Maybe Louise's flight had been delayed or something? She heard it happened a lot, so she wasn't too worried.

Although there was a nagging fear. What if Hailey had already arrived and was lying dead somewhere and the public didn't know about it yet? What if her mum or Bruce found out what she and her new friend had been doing? What if they found out she had made contact with her dad? She had to go on pretending that nothing was wrong, just for a little longer. She knew she could see her dad, if she tried hard enough. He was here somewhere.

On the other hand, if he was here, why did her mum decide to come here for a holiday? If she hated him that much why did she come here? Her mum didn't know she knew. She had kept every newspaper cutting, had even asked about the affair everyone was talking about. Her mum had slapped her; the first time she had slapped her since she was four years old. And she hadn't apologised either. She'd just told her never to mention her dad again. He'd had an affair, he'd left them, he'd done this, he'd done that and they had to make the best of what was left and carry on.

Daisy didn't believe any of it, not any more, but she couldn't stand up against her mum. Bruce would hit her. She was pretty sure he hit Ben, even though Ben said nothing. As far as her little brother was concerned he was clumsy, but Daisy wondered if he had picked that word up from someone else. Godfrey had warned her, or threatened more accurately.

Suddenly she clenched.

"You all right, Daisy?" Tess asked.

"It's that pain again," Daisy admitted.

"Oh for god's sake. What did you eat this time?" Bruce grumbled.

"Bruce, give it a rest," Tess retorted.

"Take her side," Bruce shot back. "She's a hypochondriac. You're too stupid to notice."

"I am not stupid," Tess countered angrily. "I was there when they diagnosed her."

"Stop arguing, for once," Daisy put in. "Ben's got to go back in an hour."

Ben was dosing fitfully in her lap while she buried his feet in the play sand. His eyes opened a little and he smiled. "It tickles," he said.

"You all right, little soldier?"

Ben smiled. His sister always called him that. "No, I'm a policeman, like my daddy."

"Ben, that's enough," Tess snapped. "Your dad's not a policeman. He's a lab technician. Honestly, Daisy. Stop filling Ben's head with rubbish."

"Don't look at me!" Daisy replied. Her face crumpled into a grimace. "I need my tablets," she added.

Tess looked in her bag. "I've left them in the hotel room," she said.

"I'll go back for them," Daisy said. "I'm going to have a lie down when I get there."

"Do you even know how to get there?" Bruce put in suspiciously.

"I have Google maps on my phone," Daisy answered, looking at her mum hopefully. "Mum?"

Tess sighed. "All right, fine." She dug deep into her bag and brought out the hardly used iphone her dad had bought for her some years before. It was getting old, but looked like it had just come out of the factory. She helped lift Ben into her own lap and watch her daughter get to her feet. "Text me to let me know you've got there safely."

"Will do, but honestly, Mum, with the police all over every street do you really think the murderer will try anything?" Daisy said.

"Who knows?" Tess said, genuinely worried. "They say he attacked in broad daylight. Just get there safely. The key's at the front desk."

"Ok."

Bruce watched her go with a scowl. Things were not going well. And with her out of his sight he couldn't control what she was up to. He turned to his 'wife', or as close to wife as she'd let him. "Coffee?"

"Oh, thanks Bruce. You're a love. I'm beginning to wilt."

Bruce pulled back his mouth into a smile. It looked odd on his face. "Been a long night," he said. "Be right back."

It was drawing towards teatime and the nursery nurse was beginning to pack things away. The other children were being taken inside. Tess lifted her practically lifeless son inside and laid him on is bed. Two nurses descended at once to reattach him to the monitors. Ben had loved the little play area, but the exertion had tired him out. It would be a long time before he could do that again.

/=/=/=/=/

Daisy walked out of the hospital and followed the directions on her phone. She walked with confidence. The map was easy to read, and if she was honest, she had already memorised the route. It wasn't that hard. Broadchurch was a tiny place. She bet you could walk from one side to the other in less than half an hour, probably a bit more if you went through the houses.

She walked beyond the gates of the main entrance, slipping the phone into her pocket. She knew the route. She had memorised every road and street. They laughingly called this place a town, but it was so small they should have called it a village. Daisy thought so anyway.

She put a hand on the railing as the pain in her belly increased. She quieted a moan and hefted her bag nonchalantly on her shoulder. It was worse this time. She wondered if that was because she had come on unexpectedly at the same time. She'd have to get some more pads on the way back to the hotel. Just in case.

She didn't notice the man standing the deepening shadows watching her. She was oblivious to many other things as she walked towards the centre of the town.

/=/=/=/=/

In the housing estate, Paul stood on the doorstep of a house he had begun to call his own. Though he wasn't liking it at all. He would prefer for her to move in with him in the vicarage.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right?" he was worried.

"I'll be fine," she assured him. "These things take hours."

"Well, call me if those twinges get stronger."

"What and have your phone go off in the middle of Corporate Mass?"

Paul was on edge, but she had a point. It wouldn't have looked good. His girlfriend had been in labour all afternoon, though she had been downplaying it a lot. She barely even seemed to notice it, while he had a panic attack every time her abdomen tightened. He was a nervous wreck. How could he possibly hold a church service like this? "It's called communion," he corrected gently. "Besides, it's time everyone knew about us. Including your mum and dad. And I don't care about the age gap. I love you."

"Soppy thing," she threw at him. "Get going. The sooner you get there the sooner you get finished."

Paul gave her one last kiss and hurried away, trying to find ways to cut corners in the communion service. There weren't many that he could think of. He was just glad there were no hymns or interrupting children. Unless his decided to interrupt at the worst possible moment.

Behind him, still lingering in the doorway, Natalie grimaced into the pain. She gave a gentle blown breath into the gathering evening air and turned to go inside. She had plenty of time. Of course she did. And Paul would be back later. She took a look in the fridge and realised she was out of milk and had nothing in for dinner. Paul was always hungry after communion.

"Oh great," she muttered to herself.

Closing the fridge she grabbed her purse and made her way into the warm early evening sun. It would hug the rooftops for some time yet before it began to sink. Time enough to get to the shop and back before he came home. She'd go to the garage instead and save even more time.

/=/=/=/=/

Chloe strapped the helmet on to her head and cocked her leg over the motorbike seat. Usually she held the pillion bar behind her, but before she did, she hugged the man in front. Dean was a competent rider. He could tell when a car wasn't going to stop. He never drove too fast and he always had his eye out for little-ies, as he called them. She was confident that one day she'd marry him and have 'little-ies' of her own.

She had sneaked out the back door this time, since her dad was standing guard over the front one like he was chicken with a nest or something. It was ridiculous. She didn't doubt for a minute that they would catch the killer. Just like last time. She wasn't going to live her life in fear, anyway. What kind of life was that?

Besides, across the road was a police car. And as Dean rode around the corner, there was another one. She wondered if Hardy was not taking any chances with his messages. At practically every junction there was another car. Like they were standing guard, or giving them a police escort without actually moving.

She wondered what everyone else was thinking, if they saw. Did they think the police presence was there to watch for the killer? Did they feel as calm and safe as she felt? She hoped so. Barely anyone was out, though. A few tourists and visitors from out of town.

And this time there had been little news coverage. The police had issued statements, but had not released any names or locations. But the tent still stood in the car park of the hotel, she noticed as they pulled in. She hopped off and took off her helmet, holding it in one hand as Dean followed her inside. He was her personal bodyguard. The thought made her even more comforted. No one was going to get passed Dean.

She found Becca standing at the desk, wiping it down with a duster and a tin of beeswax polish. The smell was really heady and old, like grandparents; reliable and traditional. She liked it better than the horrible sprays her mum used. She looked up and smiled. And she had been handed a very important task. She had to be responsible and not let anyone down.

"Hello, Chloe," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, I've come to see my friend, Daisy. Is she in? Room number 14."

Becca glanced at the keys and saw 14 still hanging there. She felt a flicker of worry about the little boy in that family. She hoped he was all right, but there had been no word since her hotel had been invaded by paramedics and Chloe's dad playing the hero. She kept certain thoughts to herself on that matter. "Sorry, Chloe. They're probably still at the hospital."

Chloe's face fell. "Hospital? What are they doing at the hospital?"

"The little boy was taken ill. Bad heart, I think. Didn't your dad tell you?"

"Yeah, I know about that, but Daisy sent me a text forty minutes ago. She said she was coming back from the hospital."

Becca stared back at her. And suddenly they both turned cold. If Daisy had already left the hospital and she hadn't turned up by now... where was she?

/=/=/=/=/

The garage shop was brightly lit at this time of night, even as the sun set beyond the far side of the harbour, beyond the ridge of the cliffs to the west.

Jammas Katrakisliked his job. It got him out of the house while his old man snored the place to a crumbling ruin. He got on well with his dad, but his snoring was a nightmare you couldn't to sleep to escape from. He'd bought plenty of gadgets to 'help' but nothing had. So he was on the waiting list for an operation.

Until then, Jammas worked the night shift at the 24/7 garage. He was safe in here, The owners had build a bullet proof, shatter proof glass box for him to sit in, just in case idiots decided to try and rob the place. Jamma thought that was stupid. This was Broadchurch, after all. You didn't get armed robbers here.

At least, that's what they used to think. Before Danny died, no one thought murder was possible here, either. And now they were in to another summer of discontent.

He glanced up from his DVD playing on the small portable, hearing the door buzzer go off. There were no cars on the forecourt, so it had to be a walk-in customer. He liked those better than the motorists. At least they didn't drive off without paying. He'd had a couple of those. Luckily the owners had a camera which took pictures as well as video images. That way they could trace the non-payer.

There was a young girl in the shop. She was looking through the selection of feminine hygiene products. He saw her pick up maternity pads and then change her mind and go for the regular pads. Jamma ducked his eyes away, embarrassed. She looked pretty though. She was about eighteen, which meant she was old enough for him to appreciate and chat up without getting into trouble. At least he hoped she was over eighteen. She looked exhausted. That could put years on you, his old mum used to say.

His old mum. It had been five years since she'd died and yet it still felt like yesterday sometimes. He was glad for the distraction of customers, who seemed by some unknown ability that they shared, knew just the right moment to interrupt his grief before it got too deep.

"Hello, Jammas," a voice interrupted.

Jammas smiled. Right on time. "Hello, Natalie." Here was one girl Jammas had fancied at school. Two years his junior and the prettiest thing this side of the Cheddar Gorge. He'd told her once, and she hadn't spoken to him for six months. Out of embarrassment. "Still not had the baby yet?"

"Not yet," Natalie replied, placing a selection of salad vegetables, two quarters of cooked chicken, a tub of pre-packed buttered boiled potatoes and a carton of milk on the counter. "Been having twinges, so it might not be long."

Jammas blanched. "Don't pop it out in here, though, will you? Coz I just washed the floor."

Natalie laughed. "Don't be so daft, Jammas. Takes a bit more effort than shelling peas."

Jammas grinned uncomfortably. "Even so, get home safe. £18.57 pence, please."

Natalie handed him a twenty pound note and moaned softly. She blew out her cheeks and grinned at him. "Won't be long I don't think," she said.

Jammas practically threw up in terror. "Er... do you want me to walk you home?"

"No. I'm fine. I'm only round the back of you."

Jammas was unsure if he should be relieved or not. "Well, if you're sure. Just tell that fellow of yours to get his finger out and get home from work, eh?"

"I will do. He finishes at 7:30. So he won't be long. See you."

"Bye, Natalie." Jammas glanced around the shop and couldn't see the other girl. He glanced at the CCTV and the found the place deserted. Odd. He hadn't heard the bell go. Come to think of it, he hadn't heard her come in, either. He shrugged. Perhaps he had imagined her. Except that the shelf of feminine products was empty. Or had Natalie taken them? She had only seen one of her hands. He sank into his shoes. What did they tell him on the first day of his job? Always keep an eye on the customer's hands.

Oh great, he had been shoplifted. What was he going to tell his boss? Maybe he could nip around to Natalie's in the morning and ask her for the pads back, so he wouldn't get into trouble. On seconds thoughts, she would be mortified.

He and many others joked about her boyfriend, but no one knew who it was. He, like many of their mutual friends, were beginning to wonder if he had got her pregnant and done a runner. She had never mentioned the man's name. No one had seen her with anyone except neighbours and mutual friends.

Jammas began to feel sorry for her. Money must be a bit tight. Perhaps she needed some things for her hospital bag and couldn't bare the embarrassment of admitting she didn't have the money. He made a decision. He knew how many packets had been there and he knew what they cost. He did a quick calculation on the till and registered a sale, pocketed the receipt and placed £27.42 in the tray.

He didn't begrudge her a penny of it, either. She was a friend. And friends helped each other. He turned back to the DVD playback and forgot all about it.

/=/=/=/=/

Chloe and Dean drove along the road between the hospital and the hotel, feeling every bump and dent in the surface. They had done this four times now and there was no sign of Daisy or trouble.

Dean stopped at the bus stop on Finch Lane and hopped off the bike. "Sorry, Chloe, but she's not here. Maybe she went to your house or got into the hotel without Becca seeing her."

Chloe shrugged. "It's happened before. And I only saw one set of keys on the hook. The rooms have two sets," she partially agreed. "And if there had been trouble, someone would have seen her."

"How about we stop, eh? Or I'm not going to have enough fuel to get home."

In the growing gloom he kissed her. He gently pressed her against the comforting solidity of the brick shelter.

Chloe lifted her head enough to break the kiss. "Here? You're not serious?"

"Why not? The last bus has gone."

"Yeah, but there's a house over there."

"That's Orchard Cottage," Dean recognised. "No one home tonight. I bet Daisy is in the hotel room watching Coronation Street. And there aren't any sirens going."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right," Chloe agreed. "She slipped out of the hotel easy enough. She could slip back in."

Dean pressed closer. "Good idea."

Chloe curled her arms around his shoulders and joined him in another deep, long kiss.

/=/=/=/=/

In the poorly lit street, Natalie held on to the low garden wall and puffed thickly. She was only half way home and she was struggling. The contractions had ballooned to a level she could no longer walk through.

She lifted her eyes and could see her house from here. If she could just get to it. Paul would be home soon. As the pain eased, she made the most of the time she had.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	32. Episode 4, Part 8

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Four. Part Eight: The Pawns And The Rooks<strong>

Hardy sat down in front of Elaine. The tasks of the day had been done. He had barely seen his wife in days and the last two nights not at all. She was still at her desk. It looked set to be another all-nighter for her. They had shared a longing look as he had passed her desk into the Chief Super's office. And informal chat, she had said on the phone. It was her office rather than an interview room, but the recorder sat on her desk with discs and paperwork at the ready. And Sandra was her seconder.

Not an informal chat after all, then?

This was a new experience for Hardy. A suspect in his own case – not that it was his case, but the point still stood. Had to be up there with every other nightmare he had ever had. As a teenager, he had never gone out with his friends if he knew they were going to cause trouble. His desire to be a policeman had been so strong that he had been a bit of a goody-two-shoes about doing the right thing at the right time.

By that time his parents had divorced. He'd felt it had been wrong somehow. You took vows until death do you part and then broke them all. If you were that fickle with marriage, what else were you going to do? That was how his mind worked at the tender age of twelve. If you couldn't keep your vows in the sight of God then you couldn't be trusted to tell the truth in a court of law. **On the other hand, why did people, like his parents, say they loved each other, made vows and then spent the next twelve years locked in an endless and worsening cycle of vicious arguments?**

How times had changed. He had since learned that matters of the heart were more pliable and less set in stone. And God and the vows of marriage were mere ephemera. After having his heart broken by the one woman he trusted above all others, he was more cynical and less trusting of people in general. And then he'd met Ellie. He couldn't put her into words. How she filled him, inspired him, completed him in a way Tess never had. His one regret was that he had married Tess instead of Ellie. He was willing to bet his salary that his divorce would never have happened. He would have been a better man all-round, although he perhaps would have been a different man all-round, never having been tested the way he had.

Thankfully, in some ways, he would never know.

He watched Elaine set up the recorder and open the interview in the formal manner. Sandra was sitting in as seconder, though she wasn't going to speak. It was informal, with a formal edge. Or was it the other way around? Hardy was suddenly nervous. His palms were sweating and he could see blotches in front of his eyes, just like he did when his heart began to do odd things. But he forced himself to relax. His heart was fine, the pace-maker was fine, he was fine.

"Tell me about the photograph of the four girls," Elaine spoke.

Hardy told her about the girls being firm friends since being in nursery together and then recited the tale of the holiday with them, just as he had told Ellie. There was no more to say about it. It was the last time the four friends had been together before Pippa had died and two of them had moved away. It had been a carefree summer. It brought a break to his voice. If only they had known what was coming. If only he had seen the warning signs. Only there weren't any warning signs.

"I bought Daisy a phone, but she was less than impressed. I told her she could keep in touch with her friends, since they had all gone to different schools. She was so cross with me. Her uncool dad." He gave a bit of a laugh. "She told me; 'phones can be stolen, Dad'. She liked writing. Why couldn't I have given her an address book or a writing set instead? People get their phones pinched all the time. And I had to agree. But she was so cross with me. She'd wanted a pack of envelopes and pretty paper, so she could write to her friends. I thought it was old fashioned and a sweet gesture, but I wondered if the other girls would join in. Seems that they did. They wrote to each other every week at first. And then Pippa's letters stopped coming."

He grew quiet.

"I couldn't bear to tell her why," he admitted. "What child wants to hear that? I told her that Pippa had died and was probably watching from Heaven, and to go on living for her."

"You didn't tell Daisy about the Broadchurch case?"

"No. I told her nothing. Even after the break-in I was keen to keep her out of it, oblivious. By the time the case was thrown out of court, her mother and I were at loggerheads and Tess threw me out."

"Why did she do that?"

Hardy took a deep breath. "Because I questioned whether her baby was mine," he revealed. "She was having an affair with another DS and I'm certain with another man as well, and I had already been sterilised. Tess never wanted kids. And she had resented Daisy's coming along, resented the extra things she had to do to raise our daughter, resented the time it took. All she had ever wanted was a career. So when she found out she was pregnant a second time I knew it couldn't have been mine. As soon as he was born I demanded a paternity test and the results came back telling me I was right. It hurt," he said. He pressed his mouth shut against the pain he held back. "I wanted that baby to be mine. But I knew he couldn't have been. Tess and I stayed together for appearances, for the case, but it all fell apart when the locket was stolen... I remember her face. Defiant, pale and angry. I took the blame. It was my car, but I couldn't give any valid reason why I would be at the hotel, and no one could vouch for me being there. And the alibi I had given previously was cast-iron. Tess never thanked me. She threw my clothes out of the bedroom window. The Press got some lovely picture out of that and it just added fuel to the fire. I was moved to Westbury station to a desk job, covering burglaries and car crime."

He took a deep breath in an effort to curb the bitter note that had crept into his voice. Then he continued.

"I barely spoke to my daughter. I'd call her every week, but she never replied. When we did meet up she would tell me that she and her two friends were still writing, though by this time it was down to three or four times a year. Daisy had mentioned them getting together a couple of times, but that had stopped when Louise had moved to Germany. The last time I saw Daisy was when she was thirteen. Tess said I was a bad influence on her. I wanted custody, but I hadn't a hope. I was homeless, beginning to feel the effects of my bad heart and she had no intention of letting Daisy go without a lengthy legal battle. I didn't have the money. Tess was living with a bloke I knew from Sandbrook Labs, so she had two incomes to call upon. So I dropped it. She reneged on a court access ruling, but told them it was me who hadn't turned up for access and she got it overruled. Until Daisy came to Brodchurch **about a month** ago, I hadn't seen her in just over four years. I found out Tess had taken her phone off her. Daisy never got any of the calls I sent."

"But the girls were pen pals?" Elaine clarified. "That is the link between them. Isn't it?"

Hardy began to realise that fact as well. "Yes. Although they hadn't seen each other for years, they'd kept in contact."

"And Sarah Wallace? Where does she fit in?"

Hardy slowly shook his head. "I don't know. I've never seen her before."

"What about Luiz Gotleib?"

"From the moment I saw Luiz Gotlieb; it was like I knew her face. And it took me ages to work out that she looked so much like Louise Dusk. But by that time you'd pulled me from the case and I couldn't discuss it."

"I can see why you were frustrated." Elaine acknowledged. "But it does mean we have to re-separate Sarah's murder case from Luiz's."

"Why is that?" Hardy wondered.

"Circumstantial evidence links them. We can't prove they are one case. And we're no closer to finding the murderer. There is something we're still missing. A vital piece of evidence and I was hoping you would have it, or know about it."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, really, I am," he said sadly. "I don't know what it is."

Elaine took from a drawer an evidence bag and pushed it across the table towards him. "Do you recognise this? Only we have never been able to trace it or find out who DGH is."

Hardy's face lost colour as he stared at the locket in the bag. "Where did you get that?"

"It was found next to Sarah's body."

"Oh god..." Hardy breathed. He fished into his pocket and drew out a broken locket. The front half of a deliberately broken locket. "It's magnetic," he explained. "Two halves of a whole. It was the birthday present I gave to my daughter on the last day I saw her. It's her initials on the back. DGH; Daisy Gemma Hardy" His eyes lifted to Elaine. "Are you implying Daisy killed Sarah?"

"I'm not implying anything," Elaine replied. "Until you identified what it was we had no clues about it at all."

"But this makes her a suspect," he managed.

"I'm afraid it does," Elaine agreed. "But there's a problem."

"What problem?"

"The footprint found on the bus ticket matched the pair of shoes found at the scene."

"Those old things?" he blurted out. He had seen SOCO bag them up and hadn't thought anything of it at the time. "They were found on my front door step, which is odd because that door is blocked off from the inside. It doesn't open properly. Besides, I hadn't worn those shoes in years. I left them behind in Sandbrook when my wife kicked me out."

The room fell into a stunned silence.

/=/=/=/=/

Maggie and Olly were drowning in documents. Mick, although watching them like a hawk over his precious boxes, had joined in, gleaning reams of useful facts and giving them copies of the source documents. They had worked through the night and the following day and the following night and day, fed coffee and Bachelor's chicken supernoodles in soup mugs. They kept going, on passed the need for sleep. They felt energised. The final piece of the puzzle was here. They knew it. It was just finding it.

Len had excused himself to get back to his work. He didn't tell them about Karen's response to the printed article. He never knew the woman could swear so much in one sentence and still make it a grammatically correct sentence. She'd live with it. He could. But then he was a newspaper editor. What man in his line of work had a conscience? Or woman, for that matter. Karen had to have worked that out for herself. She had bulldozed through the truth before and had the death of Jack Marshal to wear for the rest of her life. And now she was going to lead to another death, if she wasn't stopped.

Len Danvers sighed. He had a conscience after all.

In the next room, the archivist carefully stacked another pile of documents and other papers back into the relevant box and place it into the filesafe container. He knew every piece, where it was and every detail about it. He loved his photographic memory. More than once it had help police locate a document in time to save someone's life. And now he was helping to save a policeman's reputation and career. That made him feel good about working in the Press industry. After all, it was a cut-throat business, where journalists regularly killed off - metaphorically speaking - their rivals to step over their bodies to get to a story. Often the louder they shouted and drowned out the others, the more they got from their press-pack victim.

And they had no qualms about that victim being a child. As certain other cases that came to mind had proven.

He wondered how affected Hardy's daughter had been by Karen White's interference. He knew Hardy's wife had moved their daughter away, knew that Hardy himself had fielded the Press from his daughter. But still, cracks in the armour always existed.

But even now, his old friend and her protégé were loving every second in his maze of boxes and files. He didn't need others to make him feel important, didn't need compliments or ego-boosting. He did his job, simple as. But he was very glad he was here to see this. Justice. This was what it felt like. This was what it looked like. Hard slog and paperwork.

"Would any of this effect the conviction of Trevor Medley?" Olly wondrred.

"No," Maggie replied. "The case against him hinged on that pendent found in his car. It was recovered and he's in prison."

"But he could have continued his criminal activities from inside," Olly persisted.

Maggie frowned. She flipped back to her copy of the phone call printout. "No, his number remains inactive. But there is an odd collection of numbers between the pendant being found and when he was arrested. Who's number is that?" she wondered. "0778459876."

"I can check," Mick offered. He had finished clearing up for the time being. "He took out his own phone and attached a small device to it.

"What is that?"

"It's a scrambler," Mick replied. "Not exactly legal, but it means the caller won't be able to trace my ID or my number, without having to change the settings on my phone. It won't register as a call, but it'll activate the receiver's phone to act as a microphone so I can either listen in to conversations, phone calls or hack into their phone remotely. Downside is, it only had five minutes battery life."

Olly felt a suddenly jealous streak, but deep down he wasn't that kind of journalist. In his opinion, any journalist who went to those methods was the worst kind of journalist. On the other hand, here he was turning a blind eye. Something else had caught his attention.

He picked up a document for Maggie to see. It was the crime report on the break-in of Hardy's car in Sandbrook. There were details on there that didn't add up. Maggie shoved that into the scanner for a copy and passed it pack. And Mick's phone jumped into life.

"_...I told you, no," a man growled._

"_He's __your son," a woman replied forcefully._

_The man huffed indignantly. "How long are you going to keep up that pretence?" he demanded. "Telling the boy one thing and Hardy something else. And you still have his name on the birth certificate! How long do you think it will be before he sues you? And where the fuck do I fit in?"_

"_You make it sound like you don't think Ben is y__our son."_

"_Pot meet kettle! Remember the day when you turned up on my doorstep with Ben in the carrier. 'Look, you've got a son', you said. Nice to have been kept in that loop__! You use them kids like weapons. It __ain__'__t__ right, and one of these days, Tess, you'll get bitten on the arse!"_

"_Where are you going?!"_

"_For a fag!"_

"_You don't even smoke."_

"_Well, I can start, can't I?"_

The device fell silent. Mick switched it off. "That's it, battery is flat. Recognise the voices?"

Olly and Maggie looked at each other.

"Oh don't we just? Tess Hardy and Bruce Stratton. Looks like there's doubt on who Ben's father is. Interesting. Was he subject to a paternity test?"

"Ellie mentioned that he was. Hardy set out to prove that Ben wasn't his and won." Olly recalled. "Off-record, of course, but I'm guessing Bruce knows Ben isn't his. Why he isn't correcting her, I'd love to know."

"Where was the test done?"

Mick held out a piece of paper in response. "Sandbrook Labs. Bruce Stratton works there. He's been suspended for mislabelling and tampering with samples. It's not a police lab, but it does handle paternity tests."

"I love you, Mick," Maggie told him seriously. She made a copy and handed him the original back.

"Now we just have to work out if it's her phone or his," Olly added. He paused. "Or Daisy's."

"Why Daisy's?"

"I overheard Daisy asking her mum for her phone. Her mum had taken it off her."

"Three possibilities is better than several million," Maggie lifted. "Thanks, Mick. Let's keep going."

"So, why were the girls being targeted?" Mick wondered almost to himself. "Have you worked it out yet?"

"Still working on that," Maggie admitted. "And we still need to find out why Karen is so against Hardy.

"Oh!" Olly stopped. "Arrest document for Daisy Gemma Hardy. Shoplifting. Cautioned."

"We'll have a copy of that. Poor girl was shouting for someone to notice her."

"Or she was in Godfrey Ghosh's gang," Mick put in, showing her another document. "West Road Gang. Petty theft, happy slapping, mugged an old lady for her bus pass. Small stuff. It's an initiation. But it's the stuff that follows that you might want to see."

Maggie recognised a warning note in his voice. She took the file he was holding out to her and opened it. "Oh god," she breathed.

"What is it?"

"Child sex ring back in the 80's. Never made it to court due to a lack of evidence. Four of the girls were never found; the fifth was left brain-damaged and unable to answer questions. And look at the defendant's name? Godavari Ghosh. I wonder if it's the same man?"

"I can check the records," Mick offered and went to the phone, taking the already scanned crime report sheet with him.

"Looks like he regularly targeted police cars," she continued. "He was being paid, he said here, to break into police cars and steal evidence bags. He was convicted for obstructing a police officer, conspiracy to pervert the course of justice and in possession of stolen goods, tampering with police evidence and defamation of character. Got an early release from prison on good behaviour, after just six months."

"Of course he was," Olly grumbled.

"Let's see if we can get Bruce done for the same," Maggie continued searching. "There's enough evidence here to question everything that man has worked on for the passed ten years."

"I don't envy the lab who has to trace requests and redo all of that work," Olly intoned. "We still need to find a link to him and this Godavari bloke."

"I think I might have it," Mick replied. "I called a contact of mine. He does name deeds in Sandbrook. He had a Godavari years ago. Remembered the name well because it was so unusual. The client told him at the time that he wanted to simplify it so it was easier to say and he changed it to Godfrey. It wasn't until the paperwork had been done that he heard about the man's criminal history and saw his ID-fit on television in connection to the car break-in. He kept a copy of the deed, just in case the police ever came for it for the Sandbrook case, but they never did and they dismissed his evidence. He's going to send it to me by courier tonight."

/=/=/=/=/

Ellie sat hunched over her notes. She'd made plenty of them, but she was getting nowhere. Her mind kept wandering and her eyes kept shifting back to the photo from Louise' mobile. The three girls were happy-go-lucky, not a care in the world.

She brushed it off. She couldn't see how it linked to everything else, or to anything relevant. It nagged at her, but she was getting cross with herself for getting distracted. It just happened to have been taken in Sandbrook High Street. That's all, nothing more. Plenty of stuff happened in Sandbrook High Street. That didn't mean it was connected to the murder case.

She grumbled under her breath, urging herself to get a grip on it and get on with the task in hand. And then she grumbled to her self that one of these days she would be caught talking to herself.

She sighed and rubbed a hand over her forehead. She _was_ talking to herself. She glanced at the clock. Coffee. And a sandwich and then back to it.

"Coffee?"

Ellie practically jumped out of her skin. "Brian!" she scolded. "You bugger! I nearly died of fright!"

"Sorry," he said contritely, placing the mug of real coffee in front of her.

He'd brought one for Anna, too, but Ellie felt special. She eyed the mug and practically pounced on it. "Oh god, real coffee. I love you."

"Really?"

"Not like that. But get me a sandwich and I'll love you more."

Brian grinned and trotted off. He was back two minutes later with a cheese sandwich, a chicken salad sandwich and a BLT. "Pick one."

"You have no idea. I'm likely to eat them all and your hands." She grabbed them and opened the cheese.

"Any headway?"

"None at all," she said around a mouthful of bread and cheese. "I'm going around in circles. There are pieces missing. I'm sure of it. I just can't tell what's missing and what ties them together. Any progress on that bus ticket?"

"I gave that to Anna," he admitted. "You looked snowed so I spared you that."

She glanced at Anna, seated at another desk with a bus route map in one hand and a sandwich in the other, and gave him a grateful look. "Why are you still single? You're wasted."

Brian chuckled. "I'll add that to my online bio."

"Online bio?"

"Dating website."

"Brian, that's _why_ you're single. It's all dicks and weirdoes on those sites."

"Not all of them," he protested. "Sometimes you get women as well."

She threw the empty sandwich carton at him and he dodged, still managing to catch it. "Work on," she reminded him, reaching for the coffee and another sandwich with a hand on each. "Did you want something in return for your peace offering?"

"Just to let you know that you can have your driveway back and the next lot of forensics are due within the next hour."

"More work," she bemoaned.

Brian held up both hands and backed out of the room.

Anna Broome tittered to herself.

"Shut up."

Anna only laughed all the harder.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	33. Episode 4, Part 9

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode 4<strong>**,**** Part 9: Falling Into Place**

"Why?" Ellie questioned aloud. "Why were the girls chosen?" She was beseeching inanimate objects, but it was better than beseeching nothing at all. Although she would rather have had someone answer.

Everyone else had gone home. Her husband was still in the super's office. She hoped he'd thought of the kids. Actually, she needn't worry on that score. Unlike Joe, Alec was not a man to walk out on his responsibilities. He had never so much as left the twins in the bath on their own. She knew they were safe, whoever had them. Her sister had finally got her act together and she knew from seeing her with Olly when he was small that Lucy was good with children.

Not everyone was the same. She brought to mind a memory of Bruce Stratton with his children. Well, his son and Daisy. And Daisy was nearly eighteen. Alec hadn't abandoned her, either. Not through choice. He had been forced to walk away when she was thirteen, had lost contact. Ellie tried to remain neutral on that point, but she had to wonder if it had been deliberate on Tess' part.

And then there was Ben. She had seen the pain in Alec's eyes every time someone mentioned him or he saw the boy. He ached to be the boy's father. But the DNA test had been the final proof that his wife had cheated on him. Not that he had needed it. Ben had been the stake to his heart. She'd seen the boy. Ben didn't look anything like Stratton. In fact, she'd go so far as to say he looked the split of Harry - barring the features she contributed. She wondered what else Tess had taken from him, just to wave as ammunition under his nose. Maybe that was why she had come to Broadchurch?

That brought to mind the locket. What was Daisy's locket doing in their driveway next to a dead body? Ellie could not believe for a second that Daisy was the killer. But what had Hardy said last time? Trust no one. She had to be objective, not subjective. Her instincts told her that her husband was innocent and Daisy was just as innocent. Her instincts were good, but she needed to back those up with hard evidence, not supposition or opinion. Especially not opinion.

Ellie's thoughts and attention kept coming back to the selfie photo, unable to shake off the feeling that she had seen the man in the background before. But even more so the girl. But where. Ellie turned her head, trying to work out why she looked so odd. And then it came to her. It was Trevor Medley. Trevor was holding the girl's hand. So, why was she looking so frightened? Did she know something what was coming?

And her line of sight - Ellie used a ruler to check - she wasn't looking at the girls in the foreground. She was looking at the camera. Pleading. Like a message from the grave. Brian often said that a body was a silent witness. But could she really apply it to a photograph? Was the girl even dead?

There was something about the girl's face that turned Ellie's blood cold. And then it came to her. Ellie opened her drawer and took out the Broadchurch murder file. Inside on top was photo of the four girls and she finally made the connection. The girl in the background was Pippa Gilespie. Date and time of the smartphone picture was August 3 2006, timestamp 15:58. An hour after the girl had been reported missing and six hours before she was found dead. This had to have been the last time she was seen alive.

"Oh my god!" Ellie cried. She pushed to her feet, staring at the photograph in horror. She was vaguely aware of the heads of the cleaner and Frank popping back for some paperworkturning in her direction, but she couldn't make her eyes move. "Oh my god!" she said all the louder. She finally tore her eyes away, aware now of colleagues moving towards her, ready to offer help, thinking she was ill. "Where's the Chief Super?" she demanded, snapping up the photos.

"Still in the interview," Frank replied. "You can't go in there!" he called out as Ellie began to run.

/=/=/=/=/

"We still don't know what connects Karen to Hardy," Olly spoke in frustration. He glanced at his watch. "Midnight. We're now into day two and no closer to establishing that." Or is it day three? He could no longer remember.

"We'll get there. One more box to go through," Maggie replied. Her confidence had no faltered.

Olly shovelled the remnants of a sandwich into his mouth and brushed the crumbs from his hands. He helped to gather up the sheets and photos and paper cuttings into a tidy pile and tucked them back into the folder before placing them back into the document box. There was one more filesafe box left. And it felt like an uphill struggle to even face going through another one.

He took a breath, squared his shoulders and lifted off the lid. Twelve document boxed all sat there with their label windows filled in and facing the ceiling. One caught his attention. He frowned and looked at it more closely. "Leatherhead?"

Mick slowly smiled. "My piece de resistance," he announced. "_This_ is where Karen comes in."

"I wonder if that's where Hardy was before he worked at Sandbrook?" Maggie wondered.

Olly opened the box and lifted out the first file. It was labelled JOYCE DAILY CASE FILE on the front. It was meant to be the last box of documents on DI Hardy. But there was a problem. Olly couldn't find his voice.

"I called the police station just to verify that it was genuine," Mick spoke. "I asked them if they had a DI Hardy."

"Who's Joyce Daily?" Maggie asked.

Olly read the brief. "Young girl, aged nine, found floating in the River Mole in Leatherhead, in April 1998. The case is still open. The murderer was never found." He frowned. "This isn't Hardy's handwriting."

"Exactly," Mick agreed. "I had that box made for you. They're all copies, the Press coverage is at the back. Might want to note of the name of the journalist assigned to that case. I had a feeling you'd want it, but I wanted to see your faces when I gave it to you. If you hadn't come all the way up here, I would have driven all the way down."

Maggie and Olly lifted their eyes from the papers and looked at each other. "We have to get back to Broadchurch quickly before Karen makes her next move and destroys a man, his family and his career."

Olly nodded in agreement. They had amassed a huge amount of information and material. He hoped Maggie's boot was big enough.

Then he paused. "But don't we need to get all the information Aunt Ellie asked for?"

/=/=/=/=/

Miller knocked and entered hurriedly. "Sir, I am very sorry, but you have to see this."

"Interview suspended at 12:17 am." Elaine pressed stop on the recording and turned to Ellie. "What have you found?"

"It's been staring at us in the face all this time," Ellie spoke, approaching the desk to slide two photographs across the table. The one on her right was the four girls stuffed, laughing, into the shower cubical. The one on her left was the selfie the three girls had taken in Sandbrook High Street. She was out of breath, but she rushed straight to the point. "This is the link between Sandbrook and Broadchurch."

"It's the same girls," Elaine recognised.

"Yes, but that's not my point. It's the man in the background."

"That's Bruce Stratton and that's Godfrey Ghosh," Hardy identified at once.

"No!" Ellie forced out in frustration. "Him, in the background," she pointed. "Recognise him?"

Even Hardy leaned closer. "That's... It is. It's Trevor Medley."

"Yes, and do you see who's with him?" Ellie prompted.

"My god, that's Pippa Gilespie," Sandra noted. It was the first thing she had said since the interview had started.

"That's why the girls were targeted," Ellie announced. "They were witnesses to Pippa's abduction, even though they might not have known it at the time. And it's been so long since that none of the girls would have remembered this photograph, stored on the very last page on Louise's phone. They might not have recognised each other after all this time, and Daisy obviously does not recognise that this is the man would later become her step-dad."

Hardy cringed involuntarily.

"And where does Sarah Wallace fit into this?" Elaine asked.

"That's just it, sir. She doesn't. She's a plant," Ellie replied. "Someone killed her as either a distraction or a test. Different method, different motive, and a different killer. I'm willing to stake my reputation on it. I think the killers know each other, but they are different people. Whoever killed Sarah didn't killLuiz and didn't rape Louise and leave her for dead."

"You're sure it was rape?"

"As sure as I have ever been of anything in my life," Ellie replied. "I think the autopsy should be done again. I think the killer deliberately made it look like consent, but it couldn't have been consent because she would have been in the throws of a fatal allergic reaction. He might not have known that. Might have thought she was enjoying it."

"So you think it was planned?"

"Definitely. This photo proves it. This is the first time the three girls would be in the same place at the same time."

"But the third girl, Hailey, she's not in Broadchurch," Hardy point out.

"According to Chloe, Daisy said she was waiting for her two friends to arrive. Two. Not one. We know one of them was Louise. And if we know that then we have to assume Hailey was the second. I'm betting she will arrive within the next few hours," Ellie outlined.

"Why the next few hours?" Elaine asked.

"Because Tess is due to go home the day after tomorrow," Hardy recalled. "The hospital is preparing to move Ben by air-ambulance to their local hospital."

"Sir, time is running out," Ellie urged. "Daisy is the next target."

"Oh god!" Hardy breathed. He had been thinking it, but until his wife had said it out loud he was wiling to ignore it as his imagination's supposition. He didn't want to face the reality. But here it was. "Louise didn't even know she was a target. Daisy needs to be warned. Does she even knowthat her friend has died?"

"I told her," Ellie replied. "Seems her mum kept the news back from her."

"And neither of them knew why," Hardy continued. He would thank her later, if he was allowed to ask about it. "Who looks at the backgrounds of their photographs?"

Elaine reached across the table to cover his hand with hers in a gesture of calm and comfort. He was close to exploding right now and that would be a bad thing. "Any other links?" she asked Ellie.

"Yeah, though you're not going to like it," Ellie said. "The killer or killers were based at the Trader's Hotel. The first murder at this point is a guess, because we don't know where it happened, but she and her family were staying at the Traders'. The killer knew the layout of the area, probably did his research before coming down. The first killer had to have had access to Alec - sorry, DI Hardy's - belongings. They know about police procedure and now how to avoid detection. I'll put my neck on the line and say it was deliberate, to test Hardy's detective skills. The second attack was at the Traders'. We still haven't found Luiz Gotleib's skirt yet. The third attack happened at the Seaview Bed And Breakfast, where most of the guests were moved to when the Traders' was closed."

"You have a hunch on who it might be?"

"Three hunches," Ellie answered confidently. "And my husband's not going to like any of them, but at least I can prove his innocence. Bruce Stratton, Tess Hardy and I'm sorry, but Daisy Hardy is also a suspect. I still need some time on Sarah's murder. The evidence found with her isn't adding up yet. The bus ticket is being traced and the..." She froze, finally noticing the gold object on the table. "Where did you get that locket? Why's it out of the evidence bag?"

"This is the front of the locket," Elaine replied. "It's not broken. The two halves are magnetic. It's been in DI Hardy's pocket since the day he gave it to his daughter."

Hardy was too numb to speak.

"Daisy Gemma Hardy, DGH," Ellie pieced together. "For fuck sake, why didn't I think of it?!" She shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, sir."

"Not at all," Elaine dismissed. "Does it clarify your hunch?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I suggest we go and being them in for questioning-"

"Not yet, sir," Ellie cut in. "That would be the worst possible thing to do."

Elaine was surprised by that. "And why is that?"

"Hailey Bridgewater is not safe. Until she is where we can see her, she is in danger. Godfrey Ghosh has a string of convictions as long as both our arms. He is also a suspect in the disappearance of Jessica Dicks."

"I've read that file," Sandra noted. "How does that relate to Hailey Bridgewater?"

"They're friends, live next door to each other. And Daisy worked with Jessica part time at the PDSA shop in Sandbrook. They even went out with the same bloke, all three of them."

"He jumped bail yesterday morning," Elaine revealed. He indicated to the locket with one hand. "Any sign of the chain yet?"

"Not yet," Ellie conceded. "If we had an idea of what it looked like we could ask around."

"Nine carat solid gold Figaro chain, forty-six inches long," Hardy recited. "A friend of mine made it. It's one of a kind. It has a secondary chain above where the locket would hang, linking the two sides together, it in white gold with vine leaves in green gold, hugging a bunch of grapes in pink gold. It matches the front of the locket." He turned the locket over to show them the design on the front. "The locket is not meant to be removed. Where did you find the back?"

Ellie was silent as she looked at her two superior officers. Elaine nodded and Ellie answered him. "It was found next to the body in our driveway."

Hardy's eye widened. "And you took me off the case?" he gasped at Elaine. "Damn it, I could have solved this weeks ago! The same day!"

"I understand your anger," Elaine replied. "I'm angry, too. But we have to move forward with the investigation. We must use caution. Get people out there and shadow your suspects," she told Ellie. "If they so much as sneeze I want to know about it. But until we have Hailey, we do not go in."

"Sir, what about my daughter?" Hardy cut in. "She stuck in the middle of this, right in harm's way."

Elaine did not answer.

Hardy was angry and terrified, but he knew what was going on. It was as clear as glass. "First, you're turning my daughter into a suspect. Now, you turning her into bait?!"

/=/=/=/=/

Hands placed a baby on the doorstep, illuminated by the dull silvery moon and a pale light from a streetlamp across the road. It didn't cry. It just looked angelic. A shadow passed over it for a moment before pained footsteps stumbled away into the night.

Only then did the baby cry. But no one answered.

**ĐĐ**

**End of Episode**


	34. Episode 5, Part 1

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tardis:<strong> Count the adverts. It all started with me writing Life Without Joe (blowing my own trumpet). The title does not say why Joe was not there, whether he had died or walked out. It was just that he was no long there. No clue, no hint, no spoiler, no Joe. And just in case anyone else caught on before I did – episode four – that it was Joe I had to watch from a play back site because I was first burying my mum and then moving, so I actually missed episodes 2-7 until just days before the finale. My deepest thanks to bas_math_girl who saved me from being "spoilered". And, sorry, tkel, but it was not the BBC. It was ITV that made and broadcast the original. The BBC can only wish.

I got this idea after watching the original for the however-many time it was. I'd gone out to HMV to find a copy of The Politician's Wife and on the off-chance asked them if they had a copy of Broadchruch. As it happened the delivery had just arrived. I had the first copy out of the box at HMV Cardiff. There. Selfless advertising. And the Beeb still loses out. So I sat and watched it and thought I wonder what happens next? I've lived in hotels. I've been in a similar situation as Tom (and Ellie, actually, but that's neither here nor there), and I know there had to be more. Life would not have been cosy for Ellie.

So I wrote it.

LWJ was the result. And my readers liked it. Tkel refused to read it. And I fully understand and support her reasons.

However, within days of finishing and posting it I got another idea. I sat on it for months while tkel waited for the DVD, and by that time the plot bunny had stewed itself into a balrog (another plug, this one's LOTR). Tkel was busy. I was in Preston for the long awaited arrival of my first 'born in Britain'; grandchild. I have been busy looking after him and my daughter and fighting for justice for my son-in-law that the Balrog sat forgotten in a dark room on my data pen for a year. Date of starting: September 22 2013. I had a brief outline and a few notes. I basically picked at it for a year until both tkel and I were ready to put in the time and effort.

November 1 2014. One month turned into three weeks, and over 285400 words later we had a first draft. Chris Chibnall may own the copyrights and I bet his sequel is brilliant, **LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILERED! **but he doesn't have a murder. Read it and weep, Chris, my friend. Mine does. *Taggart voice* There's been a murder!

This has been a phenomenal achievement for both of us. Neither of us has done anything like this before. Working with a co-writer is not recommended for everyone. It takes a lot of patience, stamina – I had to sprint to keep up – and a strong willingness to share. I hate sharing. :D

This is going to hurt. Have tissues at the ready. I don't pull punches. Those who know my work know I have plot twists and unexpected clues, and if you miss them you'll be left behind. Make notes. You'll need them.

This is based on Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch, and a few details from the novelisation by Erin Kelly (another shameless advert), with the addition of some aspects of LWJ. If you haven't seen Broadchurch, why are you reading this first? Go away and do so, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you haven't read the novel, don't worry. I have, and you can take or leave it. It has some minor flaws and mistakes, but it is a good read. You'll find my review on Goodreads (another shameless advert) website.

Tkel and I half thought about including our own map, since the blatant error in Erin's was the mistake you'd expect from a small child. Beth's and Ellie's houses are across a field and they can see each other's kitchens; it was mentioned in the original and in the book. So I'm scratching my head trying to work out why Erin's map put them practically back to back, separated by a row of houses.

But, anyway, advertisements aside (Did you count them? There are seven.), I hope you like Sins Of The Father. We've kept it in the same style as the original eight episode format, but each one will have a different number of chapters. Hopefully, they will all be posted by the time ITV airs the sequel. Though try not to compare. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tkel:<strong> Being an American with not a lot of time on her hands to learn the tricks for getting things early from the other side of the pond, I had to wait to see Broadchurch. So I had months of reading about how good it was and how amazing David Tennant's performance was. It was more than a bit frustrating, but I give the people on my friends list credit for not spoiling anything other than Hardy's having a medical condition and one other detail. During the wait I noticed my friend Moley post a Broadchurch fanfic. Well, I did not read it. I even made a point of trying to forget I even saw one was posted. Finally the series came to BBC America, although I did not know that about two hours worth of material was cut to make room for the commercials. I was pissed off when I heard that, and promptly decided that where productions with Tennant were concerned, I would buy Region 2 only. (I had learned that computers can be manipulated to act like an all regions playing DVD player, although as of when I wrote the original note I had not yet figured it out. Trust me, I will learn soon enough.)

I was in awe from the first episode. A great cast, a heartbreaking case, and I was trying to figure out who did it almost immediately. Some I figured were unlikely, or would not be the killer without more plot twists. By the end of Episode Seven, I had a sinking suspicion who the killer was. It did not help that my memory chose then to recall what it thought was the title of Moley's fic. But I waited until the final moments had aired, and was in a bit of emotional turmoil. (Which I think we were supposed to be.) At that point, I got on Live Journal and read all five posts of Moley's fic, pausing only to comment. I needed more time to digest it fully, but I had reread it about four times by the next evening.

The thing is, my muse is the type to get ideas at the drop of a hat sometimes. Sometimes no hat, as Moley has reminded me. (giggles) Often when I am trying to work on other things. Bonzina (what I call my Muse) instantly thought about what might happen afterward, thinking about the unresolved things still there from the original story. She had thought of a plot bunny that had me intrigued. So I emailed Moley with the idea, having no idea that it would prove to be the platform for an idea that had been languishing since Life Without Joe was finished, and we bounced it back and forth – like you do when you beta read each other's work. I don't think we'd emailed about it for more than a day before it transformed into a plot balrog. (For those of you who aren't Tolkien fans, that's a giant creature of shadow and flame, "a demon from the ancient world" to quote Gandalf from the movie version of "Fellowship". Practically impossible to get rid of, as the movie showed.) Basically, it wasn't going to leave either of us alone by then, so we agreed to work on it together as soon as we could both make the time for it. Meanwhile we bounced more ideas back and forth until we had our first outline ready.

Well, although we did a lot of preplanning, we didn't get to writing until I mentioned I was thinking about what to do for NaNoWriMo 2014. Moley noted about Broadchurch 2 being filmed, and we agreed that we should get our balrog finished and fully posted before the first episode airs on ITV. And I was also working on another mystery story at the same time. Only thing is, on that story I had trouble with the outline, and stalled on it in a big way learning why my writer friends gave me the advice they did the hard way as my muse was insistent on trying something different. So I got way ahead on my parts of the story, but I used it to figure out enough so I could resume writing the other story. Even though it may never see the light of day, depending on what I think of it in the end.

Of course, I was very busy. Moved to a new city, started a new job that now means I have a profession, and had to focus on settling in. But I had managed enough that I could do NaNo once again. Although I'm still stalled on that one other story, I know one of the things I need to do with it. I also wrote a few other things, including a Christmas present for another friend – on a dare from said friend. So my grand NaNoWriMo total for 2014? 124,977. Yes. That's correct. And yet someone else managed just over 150,000. You'd better believe I intend to beat that next year.

So that's my side of the story. There will be another Broadchurch collaboration, based off an idea I had from working on this story. Stay tuned about that one. Or maybe... more than one, given that Moley and I seem to be off in slightly different directions for that one. (grins) This was a fun project, and I hope that Moley and I find additional ones to work on together. Not counting the beta reading we already do, or the times when I was utterly stuck on a story and needed more than prodding but wholesale suggestions to get it moving again. (bigger grin)

* * *

><p><em>Summertime. Outdoors. Four girls played together in a garden, giggling as small children do. No cares of the world touched them, or if they did they pretended they did not exist.<em>

_There was an undercurrent of sadness. They all knew they would part ways, but no one knew just when they would see each other again. But it was the birthday of one of them, and so they could forget about most troubles for the time being._

/=/=/=/

_Another summer. The air was pleasant, but there was a hint of tension. Mostly in the adults watching._

_Three slightly older girls sat on a beech making a sandcastle. They shaped it in honour of the fourth who did not come, looking up at each sometimes in wonder of why they had not heard from their friend._

/=/=/=/

_Two young teenage girls walking together in a busy street, shopping. They tried to laugh, but the __aura__ around them was oppressive. Especially on the taller one. A great weight was hanging on her shoulders, __but__ the haunted look had purchase in the shorter one._

/=/=/=/=/

_Darkness surrounded the area. The moon's light barely shone through the clouds._

_A girl stepped into the light of an open window.__ She kept low, trying to be invisible. She glanced up at the moon, her face that of the shorter of the teenagers. But her formerly honey-blonde hair had been dyed black. Her face was pale even for the light out, and her whole being spoke of knowing a terror unspeakable._

_She looked and listened, closing the __window__ before she repeated the listening. Then she fled into the shadows, as quietly as she __could__._

/=/=/=/

_Under the same moonlight and yet slightly different clouds angled overhead a sixteen __year-old girl__ stood alone, partly in shadow, leaning against a brick-built bus shelter with the sound of the ocean not far away. It was the taller of the girls. Her long hair fell in waves about her shoulders and at her throat hung a locket that rested against her t-shirt. It was old, as old as she felt. She bore herself as one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, silhouetted against the light of an opening door behind her._

_In the distance the echoing cry of a newborn child broke the silence of the night._

/=/=/=/=/

**Episode Five. Part One: Another Potential Disaster?**

As Ellie and Hardy reached their car Connelly stepped from the shadows.

"I knew you'd come out if I waited long enough," he said.

Ellie had her cuffs out and on his wrists before he had uttered another word. She marched him up the steps to the front desk before he dared to utter another word.

"I found this loitering in the car park," Ellie told the duty officer.

"Did you now." PC Ann Strickler smirked up at Connelly.

"If you must know I was trying to give you a message," Connelly defended. "I saw your car and I waited for you."

"Shall I book him in on grounds of harassment, or shall I let him go?" Ellie wondered in teasing tones to Ann.

"I dunno, Sarge. I mean it'll mean paperwork," Ann returned with a bored edge to her voice.

"And it's not exactly been a quiet night, upstairs, either," Ellie added. "It looks like it might be your lucky night, Mr. Connelly. I suggest you use the opportunity wisely and get the fuck out of my sight. You didn't hear that, did you?" she grinned at the PC.

"Not a word, Sarge," Ann replied airily.

Ellie unlocked the cuffs. "Out. Now."

"Wait, I need to tell you-"

"Five," Ellie began to count. "And if I get to zero I will arrest you on charges of obstructing the police and harassment of a police officer. Four. And with your record I'd think very carefully if I were you. Three!"

In utter frustration, Connelly turned and ran out the doors and vanished into the night.

Ellie grinned at Ann at the desk. "Thanks, Ann. I think he'll behave himself for a while."

"I hope so," Ann replied. "I wouldn't want to see you reach zero, either, Sarge."

They shared a laugh and said goodnight.

/=/=/=/=/

Five minutes later, they stepped into the house. Ellie pulled off her elastic head band and shook her curls loose.

"What do you mean Daisy doesn't have a mobile?" Hardy snapped.

Ellie waved at him sharply. "For god's sake, lower your voice. It's two in the morning, and the children do not need to hear us shouting!"

Her quieter tone and calm delivery forced him to agree. He put his hands on his hips and waited.

Satisfied, she continued. "According to several witnesses, and Daisy herself, she was forced to gave her mobile to her mum. She must have used her mother's phone to send the texts to Chloe, or pinched her phone back."

He frowned. "And Tess hasn't found out?"

"I'm guessing she deleted the evidence of the text and used it when her mother wasn't around. But Daisy won't talk about it. She knows about what happened to her friend, and may be too afraid to talk to us openly. I think she's being threatened."

Hardy rubbed his face. "Who's threatened her?"

"I'm not sure who. Could be Stratton or a boyfriend. Does she have a boyfriend?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I wouldn't know. Maybe. Most girls her age have one."

"How did the interview go?"

"Before you interrupted or after?" he intoned. "Before you got there I was this close to being charged for the murder of Sarah Wallace. If you hadn't come in with a hand full of Ace cards, I'd have been looking at the inside of a police cell."

"Is everything all right? You're not fighting?"

Tom's worried voice broke the tension and they turned to look at him.

"Still getting nightmares, sweetheart?" Ellie asked gently.

Tom shook his head. "I heard you shouting."

Hardy shook his head. "This isn't what you saw the other day. This is just the pressure of the cases and the memories it's bringing up."

"But you're angry," Tom noticed.

"No, Tom, your dad and I are fine," Ellie assured him. "It's only two in the morning. Why are you up?"

"You woke me up. Why the raised voices? And why can't Dad work with you? He's good at his job, right?"

Ellie sighed and rubbed his shoulder with a hand. "Someone wants us to think he's the killer. Whenever one of our own is a suspect we have to keep them away from the case just to be certain. And we'd face serious problems from higher up and the public, never mind risking a conviction, if we don't. As soon as there's enough evidence to prove he couldn't have done either murder I'm sure the Chief Super will convince her superiors to rescind their order."

Of course she could not admit to the real reason her husband had not yet been let back on the case.

"What's it going to take? How much longer? It won't be like Danny, will it?"

Alec came over and hugged Tom, who clutched him back. "It's hard being on the outside of something that could alter your life, Tom. I'm actually praying now."

For all the tension Ellie had to smile and tease him. "Hell really has frozen over then."

They all laughed. At least a little.

/=/=/=/=/

A police car raced up the gentle hill towards the Finch Lane bus stop, with its lights on. They had had a phone call reporting signs of blood at the stop. It had been a female voice, whispering the barest details before hanging up. The voice had not sounded familiar, nor was it very clear. It was a miracle that they had understood what she had meant at all. The call had been too short to trace and the transponder was disconnected.

Lights blazed the way through the dark night, and PC James Tucker dared to break the silence in the car. "I hope that this is not a new crime scene," he said to his companion who was driving. "Maybe, just maybe, this is the missing first murder scene we've been looking for. The town can't take another murder, I'm sure of it."

PC Emma Shrove nodded. "It feels like we've been running in circles even with the leads CID keeps bringing in. We need that crime scene. Ah, here it is.

They noticed a glint of a motorcycle nearby in the headlights as they closed in, and quickly spotted two people in the bus stop. She pulled to a stop, and they bolted out, torches at ready. Just then one of the two people, a female, screamed.

"Stay exactly where you are!"

The two people froze as the lights hit their faces.

Shrove stilled. "Chloe Latimer and Dean Thomas? What are you doing here?"

Both flushed red. "We just got here," Chloe protested.

/=/=/=/=/

The moon vanished behind a scudding cloud as SOCO arrived at the bus stop in Finch Lane. Anna Broome from CID had given him a tip-off. The ticket had been traced to here. He had no idea what he would find. As he parked, police officers from another vehicle, with the flashers going, were already on the scene. That was odd.

This was where the bus ticket had been bought. So they were here to find out of they could trace the purchaser and eliminate them from the inquiry, or find out if Sarah Wallace or the murderer had been on the bus, or eliminate the bus ticket altogether.

It was an old bus stop, build to replace the railway station at the bottom of the hill. Some replacement. The buses only ran four times a day. Twice in and twice out. It was a brick built shelter, with a flat roof and two openings in the walls, one at each end. A bit more character than those new plastic jobs, in Brian's opinion. Except there was a problem. Someone was in the bus shelter.

Brian stepped out of the van.

"... Anything you do say may be used in evidence. Do you understand?"

"Yes," the young man replied quietly.

"What's happening?" Brian asked as he approached, silver box in one hand.

"Indecent exposure. I'll get them back to the station," Tucker replied.

"Wait, my jacket," Dean called back as the other officer handcuffed Chloe.

Brian shone his torch towards where he was pointing. And then he saw the pool of blood. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. Your jacket has blood on it, and this is a crime scene.

Dean looked at him and shuddered. He looked to Chloe, who visibly paled.

"Oh god," she whimpered. "Please don't tell me Daisy's dead. I knew we should have kept looking!" she wailed.

Brian set up the lamp at once and took pictures. An odd thing struck him very quickly. The blood wasn't arterial. It was darker. Blood from the veins was darker, lacked oxygen and was more viscous. And this didn't look like venal blood either. And there wasn't a splatter pattern, as such, either. This was more like a straight down pool. This did not look like an attack. More like an animal being gutted.

Then he began to bag evidence and take samples. He would be able to tell what was going on and what had happened once he had got the samples back to the crime lab.

"Anything?"

"Yes," Brian replied. "More questions. But there's no evidence of an attack."

"But where's the blood come from? Someone's skinned a rabbit?"

"No, it's definitely human blood," Brian replied honestly. "But, there's not enough blood here to suggest someone died. The splatter pattern in straight down, that means it's not the result of a blow. And it's the wrong kind of blood. Venal blood. And there's no body. Set the tape around it, though, just to be sure."

Shrove let her partner place the young man into the back of their car, while she held on to Chloe. She was curious about the pool of blood. It was wet and it hadn't been raining. That meant it was fresh, didn't it? She stepped closer. "If it's not enough to kill, what's happened, then?"

"I don't know yet," Brian replied.

Chloe could imagine where this was going. "We haven't done anything, and we didn't see anyone."

As Shrove stepped back out of the way of the tape going up SOCO got to work. "And you're here because?" she demanded.

Chloe reluctantly answered. "We were out looking for a friend and decided to stop for a minute. Dean was low on fuel. So we... were making out for a bit. Never saw the blood until you lot turned up.

"Lots of blood," Tucker spoke. "I think we better log it as a murder scene until we can prove otherwise. But there was no body."

Tucker shone his torch around the lane and wooded verges. There was no one else about. He could tell that Dean's jacket was wet on its side, and Chloe's trainers were also bloody, like they had been standing in the puddle.

SOCO stood in the lamplight and stepped back from his colleague who was crouched for a closer look. "This one's very fresh; minutes, I'd say. It's not even begun to coagulate yet. That means it's been here less than an hour."

"Look," Tucker said, shining his torch on something nearby. The grass along the verge had been disturbed by something.

"A rabbit?" Strickler wondered.

"I'll check it out," Brian said. "We definitely have a potential crime scene here."

Tucker shook his head at Chloe. "We have to take you bothin for questioning."

"What?" cried Chloe.

"Right now you're both suspects."

"For what?"

"What might be another murder. Get her in the car."

"Who sent you lot, anyway?" Brian asked.

"Got a call from a member of the public," Shrove replied.

Brian nodded. "There's no immediate emergency. Whoever was bleeding is long gone. You can head off. I'll call in."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	35. Episode 5, Part 2

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Five. Part Two: Fighting Panic<strong>

Her mobile rang just as Tom broke the hug with his dad. She was sure her husband could have done with one of her hugs, if she was honest, but they probably weren't blessed for time. "Oh, let that be a break." She glanced at the caller ID and sighed. "It's SOCO, following up on the bus ticket." She answered the call. "Miller."

Brian was quick and straight to the point. "We may have another crime scene."

"What's happened?"

"Officers responded to a call from a member of the public about blood at the bus stop in Finch Lane. They got there just before we arrived and found Chloe Latimer and Dean Enoch at the scene."

Ellie groaned. "Don't tell me they've been arrested."

"Well, they were canoodling in public, but that's not the reason I'm calling. As soon as they were arrested, we noticed that Dean's coat was resting in a pool of fresh blood."

Alec and Tom watched her expression turn shocked, and then horrified as she responded. "How bad?"

"Someone was injured here at very least. There's a lot of body fluid here, but mostly blood. No body and so far no trail of footprints leading away. Uniform is heading back to the station now."

"I'm on my way." She snapped the phone shut. "Alec, I may need you to make a call for me."

"What's going on?"

She hesitated, but decided he would learn soon enough. "It sounds like Chloe and Dean decided to meet somewhere different and stumbled onto what may be another crime scene."

Tom's eyes widened. "Someone else is dead?"

"We don't know. There's no body." She hurried towards the door.

Alec's eyes widened and he hurried to his own mobile.

"Who are you calling?"

"Trying to reach someone I'd rather avoid."

/=/=/=/

Tess lifted her head at the sound of her phone ringing.

"Answer it," Bruce growled, trying to go back to sleep.

She picked it up. "Hello?"

"Is Daisy with you?" Alec's voice instantly demanded.

"I told you to not call us!"

"I just need to know thatshe's safe!"

Tess hung up on him, and switched her phone off.

"Who was it?"

"Alec," Tess grumbled.

"What's he calling you for?"

"In a panic over Daisy. Whatever it is, he can sweat it out for the night." She exhausted and he could leave her alone to sleep. "Nothing is that important that it can't wait until the morning." She glanced at Ben in the bed and the monitors. Everything was fine. She adjusted the blanket the nurse had given her and her head sank back again. "Go back to sleep."

/=/=/=/=/

Alec listened to the dial tone following the disconnect sound, his other hand hanging limply by his side. He almost threw the phone at the nearest wall in a rage, but that wouldn't help matters at all.

Tom watched as his dad sank into a chair, turning paler than he thought anyone could. "Dad?" he had flashbacks to when he was forced to watch him being wheeled off to surgery, and not allowed to see him after that. "Your heart?"

"It's not that," Alec whispered. "It's all emotional. I don't know if Daisy's safe."

"What, you mean she wasn't there?" Ellie spoke.

"I don't know. Tess hung up on me."

Tom did the only thing he could do. He hugged his dad, well aware that he was not the person his dad needed a hug from at that moment. But he could not risk something triggering anything like what happened before.

/=/=/=/=/

Old Enoch Grebes knew a fox when he heard one. But this was no fox. Unless it had been hit by a car. It sounded in a right state. Or maybe it was a stray cat. He took his wood axe, just in case. He'd heard about the murders in town. He'd rather not die unless it was under his own steam.

Just gone three in the morning. It was still dark out. And he was in his pyjamas and dressing gown.

"Anything?"

He turned at the sound of his sister's voice. Lily was in her nightdress and dressing gown. Neither of them had married, and were both pushing one hundred. But it had been getting harder of late. She was a bit stiff in her joints, but her mind was as sharp as ever. "Nothing yet, Lily," he told her.

He had been with the war office during the war, and nights still gave him the chills even now. And his sister had been a nurse. She still hated the fireworks, thought it was a cruel reminder, thought they should stop them being sold to children. He agreed with her about that. None of the kids these days knew what it was like to have bombs exploding and fires all around them.

"Probably that fox in the shed again," he said and took a step out into the darkness. "Oh my giddy!" he shrieked.

"Enoch?" she cried after him.

"Oh, Lily, come quick," he said, even though that was barely possible for either of them at their age.

Lily moved with her frame to switch on the light in the hallway. She didn't really need the frame, but Enoch had insisted on getting her one. She looked out through the open front door to find her brother picking up a small bundle of cloth. "What is it?"

"It's a baby, sis," he said. "Someone's left a baby on our doorstep."

"Well, it's not mine!"

Enoch blinked at her. "Well, I think that's obvious, sis. Get the police on the blower." He stepped into the cottage and closed the door. "Poor little mite. He can't be that old. He's still got blood on him."

Lily turned back and shuffled towards the phone on the hallway table. She picked up the receiver in one hand while the gnarled arthritic finger of the other turned the old dial phone from nine all the way around, three times.

"Hello...? Get me the police. Quick!"

/=/=/=/=/

Strictly speaking the Supers should have kept him out of this, but Ellie had convinced them that Hardy needed to be given something productive to do until they could work out what had happened.

Before he could question why or how, he had found himself walking into a room with DC Frank Williams at his side and found Dean sitting there, sans his favourite jacket.

Dean remained quiet. He just knew that the DI was not up to being evaded. But he knew they had done nothing really wrong.

Frank recited the details of the interview for the record, and sat back to let Hardy ask the questions.

"What were you doing at the bus stop on Finch Lane?"

Dean squirmed. "Me and Chloe were kissing."

Young love had little sympathy from him right then. "And you didn't notice anything wrong?"

"No."

"What made you take your jacket off?"

"It's a bit thick... Well, and I was working up for a bit of sex," he admitted. "No one was about, so I didn't think anyone would see us. It wasn't till that police car turned up that I knew something off. I mean we hadn't been there that long. We only got as far as kissing and they arrested us. I turned back for my jacket and the bloke in white said I couldn't have it."

"So there was no sign of a body or anything amiss?"

Dean shook his head hard. "No. We didn't see anything."

"Did you see anyone loitering around that bus stop when you arrived?"

"No. It was quite dark. But I don't think whoever left that blood is dead."

Hardy frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"I've seen dead things," Dean said. "If it was a person there would have been a lot more blood than that. The puddle wasn't big enough even for a gutted rabbit."

Hardy did not know how he managed to say the next question with an even tone. "Maybe the killer wrapped the body?"

"Except the blood was fresh and wasn't disturbed, apart from my jacket! Even that bloke said so. It was all collected in one place, in like a neat circle."

"A regular fountain of knowledge, Dean. Care to tell us how you learned this information?"

Dean paused. "Well, I got to tell you, ain't I? Since you're going to find out anyway. I've been poaching. Times have been a bit hard so I've had to find alternative ways to make enough money to eat. So I've been killing rabbits on the farm. Not with wire or nothing," he added. "Coz that's cruel. Makes them die slowly."

"What do you use?"

"I use a crossbow. You don't need a license for one of them, and it's an instant clean killing. I cut the rabbits up and sell them on."

There was a knock at the door and Chief Super Jenkinson entered. The look in her eyes told Hardy the interview had to end. So he silently sighed and officially brought it to a close.

"A word, DI, DC?"

They both stood and followed her out into the corridor.

Once she had closed the door, Jenkinson looked them in the eye. "We don't have a crime scene at the bus stop, exactly."

"Then what do we have?" Alec demanded, barely able to keep his patience. "You asked me to interview him."

"A call from a bit further along the lane. Someone left what caused that mess in the bus stop. But it's not a _dead_ body."

"Another victim?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

/=/=/=/=/

Ellie was livid now. As if she and her team didn't have enough to work on their hands. Now this. She hadn't even got to speak to Chloe and Dean yet. Barely in through the front door and the phone started ringing. As she aimed straight for Natalie's house behind the petrol station, she was still muttering her initial response.

"You have got to be bloody joking!"

There was only one mother-to-be in Broadchurch with a baby due right now, and that was Natalie Westford. She knew the girl was going through some hard times, but she had no idea the girl would have the temerity to dump her own child. She worked as a nursery assistant, for god's sake. Natalie was CRB checked. She was only nineteen and this could finish her.

"Are we sure about this?" Ellie asked.

"She's the only pregnant woman in town who's anywhere close to being due," Anna answered. "In fact, I believe she's looked like she was going to pop any moment for over a month now."

Pursing her lips, Ellie shook her head. "How can anyone abandon their own child?"

She got out of the car, seeing red and almost huffing smoke like a cartoon bull. With Anna beside her, she reined in any and all comments until she got inside. She hammered on the front door of the house. At first there was no answer.

She pounded on the door again. "Police! Open the door!"

After a moment, the door opened and Paul Coates stood there. "I said it's unlocked!" he told them, frazzled and bleary-eyed.

They exchanged a look. Paul Coates, the vicar?! What was he doing here?

After a moment, Coates recovered his ability to speak. "About bloody time!" he blurted out as they pushed passed him. "We've been waiting for hours!"

Ellie ignored him and was already in the living room by the time he had finished the sentence. "Natalie Westford! What the hell do you think you're playing at-!"

She didn't get any further. She and Anna stopped cold. The fire left Ellie's voice when she found them. The wailing was making it hard for anyone to hear, anyway.

Sitting on towels was Natalie, covered by a blanket below the waist and cradling a baby wrapped in towels. A baby who began crying at the sound of raised voices. Coates knelt beside her, arms wrapped around her. And she could barely arrest the girl for child endangerment or abandonment if she was holding a baby.

"You have a baby," Anna said.

"Yeah, I just had her," Natalie said, blinking in confusion.

"Oh god," Ellie muttered on an exhale as soon as she found her voice again. She would know that sound anywhere, especially having two under the age of one year. "Someone gave birth at the bus stop on Finch Lane. I've got to ask... was that you?"

Paul shook his head as did Natalie. "I got back from a home visit, one of my parishioners died tonight, during Corporate Mass. You can check with Dr. Martin. When I got in, Natalie was in labour, in a lot of pain. She's called for an ambulance and I called again, but we couldn't get through. It's been engaged every time I rang 999."

"Then where were you all night?"

"Here, feeling pains and trying to decide when to make any calls. They didn't seem bad when Paul left for Communion, but they got really bad by the time I got back from the garage shop. And Paul didn't get back until really late. So I waited for him before I called for an ambulance."

"Wait. Why the vicar?" echoed Ellie.

The two at first did not meet each other's eyes, but finally Coates sighed. "We can't hide it anymore, Natalie."

Natalie nodded grimly, sighing as she tried to calm the baby.

Ellie's mouth dropped a moment before it snapped shut so she could talk again. "You're the baby's father?"

"Of course, I am," Coates nodded, a mixture of pride and a little embarrassment in his manner.

"Then all the arguments people reported between you two..." Ellie trailed off, not sure what to make of this.

"I've been asking her to marry me for months now," Paul explained. "She's been refusing. Didn't want to leave her mum and doesn't want me doing the 'right thing' for the wrong reasons. But I love her." He frowned, looking at Ellie and Anna. "You're not here about Natalie's baby. Are you?"

"Abandoned baby found in Finch Lane," Ellie replied in short over.

"As you can see, it's not ours," Paul said.

"I've not been near the bus stop," Natalie added.

"I had to deliver the baby myself," Paul added. "My first child!"

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	36. Episode 5, Part 3

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Five. Part Three: Confounding Factors<strong>

Ellie realised the man was wrecked with spent nerves. "But if you have your baby... then who's baby was left on Old Grebes' doorstep? Oh god." Ellie took out her phone and called the Chief Super. "Sir...? We've got a bigger problem. That baby is not Natalie Westford's..."

"How is that possible?" Jenkinson demanded as she froze.

"Cos I'm looking at it and it's in her arms..." Ellie took a closer look beneath the blankets. "It's a girl and still attached..."

Jenkinson rubbed her eyes. This day was getting better by the moment. "They look all right?"

"Yes, sir." She paused to look more carefully at both mother and baby. "Shaken, but looking good as far as I can tell..."

Coates and Natalie ignored the two coppers staring at them, focusing on calming the baby.

Ellie continued talking."There's was...? Oh, right... Yes, sir... I'll let them know." She closed the phone and looked at them both. "There's been an accident on the main road just passed the roundabout towards Bridport. All the ambulances are out. My boss is sending for a midwife."

"We've been trying to get through for hours," Natalie said.

A call came on Anna's phone, and she quickly answered. "Broome?"

"Just got word from Incident," said the Super's voice at the other end of the line. "An ambulance has been called to Natalie Westford's address."

"You're kidding!" Anna hissed.

"No," Sandra replied. "I don't know what's going on, but the operator is still on the line with the other ambulance crew. I'm in the Incident Room now. I happened to overhear the call and knew you were on your way over."

"We're there now, sir," Anna replied. "Will let you know what's what as soon as we can." She hung up. "Someone at Natalie's called for an ambulance five hours ago, it was logged but they couldn't respond. Another one was logged five minutes ago-"

"Yes, me," Paul cut in. "I finally got through."

Ellie rubbed her face as the ambulance crew arrived outside. Anna went to let them in and they hurried inside. They also stopped short.

Natalie groaned at the looks. "Okay, I had a baby. Paul is the dad. I've been here all night. Now will someone check us both to make sure we're all right?"

The ambulance crew began their duties, pushing Coates gently out of the way so they could work. Ellie motioned him to the side.

Coates sat down in the nearest chair. "If you're going to yell at me because of the age difference, go ahead. It's nothing compared to what I told myself. But she is nearly twenty. That makes her and us legal."

"When did this start?" Ellie interrupted.

He could read her well enough to know when to not delay. She was getting more and more like her husband as this case progressed, but he supposed the pressures were the reason. "A year ago we met when she took over her mum's house and care. She had been deciding what to do about her university education, what with her mum now bed-ridden. I said nothing at first, thinking of the age difference between us. But she needed someone to listen and we talked a lot about how to handle her mum's property, money, a lot of practical things. Before long, I accidentally found out that she returned the feelings."

"And she got pregnant?"

"I'm not proud of the out of wedlock part, but I've wanted a family to call my own. I've come to trust that God puts people where they are for a reason. I decided to not argue the thought that she might have been sent here partly to meet me, that I was brought into her life to help her."

"If we all believed that, police work would take a lot less time. In fact, the police would be out of a job and law enforcement would be in the hands of priests and soothsayers," Ellie retorted waspishly.

Paul ignored her. "Natalie was worried that we might be shunned." He was silent for a moment and then opened up. "Years ago, Natalie's mum got pregnant by the priest who used to work in this parish. She was a choir girl and he took advantage of her. That's why we tried to keep things secret.. Not because of any impriopriety that you might think. Natalie's mum is beridden, blind, and almost completely deaf. I couldn't ask Natalie to leave her on her own. So I agreed to keep things as they are until we were ready. Then, about six months ago we realised she was pregnant. I asked her to marry me then, but she refused because she thought I was being too old-fashioned. But she didn't push me away. So I've asked again every so often, because I won't give up on the thought of having a proper family."

"When did you get here last night?"

Coates had to think. "Um... about 9:30. Would have been back long before that, but a parishioner died. I had to wait for the doctor to arrive."

"When did Natalie go into labour?"

"She started feeling pains earlier than that, but they didn't get bad until about an hour before I got back. I got in and found her on the floor. I've been phoning 999 all night."

"Did you leave the house at any time?"

"No. I sat with her all through it. I helped her with the pain and helped her deliver. I finally got through to the ambulance just before you turned up. Why?"

Ellie sighed. "I had to be sure it wasn't twins."

Paul gazed at her in confusion.

"Which means, we're still looking for the mother."

Seconds later, Ellie returned to the car. Broome pocketed her mobile for the second time..

"Sir, the baby's been taken to the hospital. PC Daniels took him up himself."

"Good. That's one less thing to worry about."

"But why leave the baby at the Grebe's house?" asked DC Broome. "Why not leave it at the bus stop where it was born? Why not wait for help to arrive?"

"Maybe the mother was frightened. Maybe she tried to cover her trail by giving birth in one less-than private place and putting the baby somewhere else. But she left him close to a front door. That means she wanted him to be found. Or is it a she?"

"Responders said a boy. Looks Asian or Middle Eastern, they said."

Meaning, not like a local. They had a Chinese take-away and a Tandoori House, but most of Broadchurch was still a mostly traditional English rural town, untouched by modern or imperial immigration. She could see some uncomfortable scenes with the Asian populations of the area if this got out. An Asian woman with a secret, one that, given what she'd heard of their respective cultures, would not end well for the mother. "That's odd that a boy would be abandoned."

"He was left on the doorstep, wrapped in a hospital blanket. Whoever it was must have taken off as soon as they'd given birth."

"That would set the alarms off," Ellie reasoned. "All babies are tagged." She thought for a moment. "But she must have been in hospital recently, which means there must be some record of her," she clarified. "Maybe it was an unwed mother, or someone trying to avoid responsibility, or shame? At least they had seen to it that the baby would be promptly found, which showed recognition of responsibility and a conscience." She frowned. "But why leave hospital if you're in labour?"

"Maybe she wasn't in hospital," Anna suggested. "She could have stolen the blanket."

"Sounds premeditated to me." She sighed. "Let's go and take a look at him."

/=/=/=/=/

The drive over to the hospital took barely five minutes. In the reception area of the maternity ward, it was easy to zero in on the baby. As Ellie and Anna approached the huddle of a midwife on the phone and a doctor looking out of his depth, and the wailing thatwould not stop. Ellie frowned at the man who, given that he should have been adept at this sort of thing seemed to be all thumbs. "No experience with babies.?"

"Junior doctor. First week after qualifying," he replied candidly. "The others needed to be doing things, and they were the right ones to do them. I drew the short straw."

Ellie took pity on him. "Oh, give him here. Let a mother show you how it's done." They needed the quiet in order to hear each other, and the newborn did not need to be upset any longer. There was an awkward transfer from basin to arms, given the angle Ellie was standing at, but she soon had the newborn in her arms. "There, there, there," she soothed. "It's ok. Sh-sh-sh."

It worked, just as it still did with her own. The baby quieted and then went to sleep, obviously feeling safe as she gently rocked him on her shoulder.

"First things first. Does he have any injuries?"

"No," the doctor replied. "But the cord snapped during birth and the afterbirth is not with him. He's quite a large baby. The mother is very likely injured. You need to find the placenta."

"On my list," Ellie replied. "Anything else?"

"Asian or Middle Eastern origin. In good health, but has a slight murmur in the left atrium."

"Has anyone named him?" Ellie wondered.

"I gave him the name Enoch, after the man who found him," PC Daniels replied. "I could have given him my name, but I thought that might have been pushing it."

Sighing, Ellie looked up and gave him a nod. She was probably stuck with 'Enoch' for the moment, and frankly so was the baby. Though she supposed he was too young to be complaining if he didn't like it. "Has anyone called Social Services?"

"I did," the midwife replied. "They have sent someone to pick him up, but I told them he's not going to be leaving the hospital until we've found themum."

"Have you traced the blanket? Is it one of yours?"

"That's the interesting thing," the Midwife explained. "It's not a hospital blanket. It's a play blanket. From a children's dressing up kit, for role play. It's stamped 'Property of Broadchurch Children's Ward', but anyone could have taken it or even bought it in a car boot sale or a charity shop."

It was a relief that they hadn't got a maternity absconder. She could get back to her cases knowing the newborn baby boy would be safe. "Where are the people who found him? We'll need statements."

/=/=/=/=/

Minutes later, Ellie executed an illegal but perfect 180 degree turn, picked up Anna Broome, and raced off towards Finch Lane. It was breakfast time, and her stomach was loudly explaining that fact to her, but she resolutely ignored it.

Even as she stepped into the Grebes' home, she could still feel the baby in her arms, like an echo. She stood in front of the oldest people she had ever seen in her life. The Grebes didn't look Asian, nor did they look young enough to have had a baby, much less dumped it on their own doorstep. More than that, they were brother and sister. Neither had married, if Ellie remembered correctly.

He was a former church warden for more than fifty years and she had been in the Mother's Union. They had been separated only during the war years, but somehow they both ended up back in Broadchurch and shared a home to save money. Must be nice having family you could trust like that, she thought. Her parents-in-law were still not on speaking terms with her, as if Joe's actions had been her fault.

"What time did you hear the crying?" DC Broome asked.

"Just before Lily phoned you; just gone four. It woke me first," Enoch Grebes told her. "We were both in bed asleep. I thought there was a fox stuck in the shed. There's one; he gets in there and then can't get out again. But when I went to the door the fox had gone quiet for about ten minutes. I expected to go out to the shed and open the door for him, you know? But as I went outside there it was. A bundle. I nearly stepped on him, the poor little mite."

The woman shook her head. "I called the police while Enoch brought him inside where it's warm. He was wrapped in a hospital blanket."

"Did you see anyone or hear anyone?" Ellie asked.

They shook their heads. "No. When I went out there no one was about. I did try looking a little, but I couldn't tell where they went," he added. "All I could see was the bright light by the bus stop, but I thought it was a car or something parked in the lay-by."

It was soon clear that they had little else to offer in information, so Ellie and Anna left.

Outside Anna made a comment. "Your thoughts keep drifting to him, sir. You're not thinking about taking him in, are you?"

Ellie snorted, keeping it quiet. "Aw. I've got enough with four, and three of them are under three. No, I just... feel like there's something familiar about him. Like I know someone he looks like. Besides, who'd come to Broadchurch to have a baby and then do a runner back home?"

"Who said they'd left?"

Ellie half smiled. "Got a hunch, Detective Constable?"

"Yes, Sarge," she said confidently.

"Careful," Ellie teased quietly. "Just because you triumphed over a bus ticket, doesn't mean you're on a roll. Oh, listen to me. Now, I sound like DI Hardy," she noted to herself.

"I'm just saying, sir, that it will narrow down who needs to be questioned if we search the local pregnant mums first. There's got to be more than just Natalie Westwood."

"It still means someone has to be spared to ask the questions."

"Is that our job or Social Services?"

"Ours. Since whoever gave birth could be arrested for child endangerment or at the very least reckless abandonment. I think if the circumstances are extenuating I might convince myself to commute it to diminished responsibilities. Let's go and talk to SOCO. Grebes mentioned seeing his lights from his doorstep."

"The bus stop," Anna agreed. "It's close to the Grebes' house, which means there wasn't a lot of time between the mother giving birth and leaving him there. Poor Brian. Not his night is it?"

"According to uniform, SOCO did turn a bit pale when he realised what he was looking at." Ellie began checking her notes as she walked down the gently slope towards the bus stop. She paused, looking up at her house on the opposite side of the road. Barely noticeable through the trees, even in broad daylight. And it wasn't long until dawn. "My lights are on. Why didn't she leave the baby there? Why go to a cottage that had its lights turned off?"

"Closer?"

"Or trying to hide from the police," mused Ellie. "It's no secret where I live." She dismissed it with a shake of her head. "No, the Grebes' cottage is closer to the bus stop. Whoever gets this assignment can start with the baby's ethnicity. That's going to have to be handled delicately. Mind, I'm sure we have some illegal immigrants in the area. Asking questions might be tricky."

"Who can be spared?"

"At this point in time, only DI Hardy is free."

Anna flinched. "I volunteer you tell him, Sarge," she said.

"Nice," Ellie shot back quietly. "Let's get back to the station and file the reports. It looks like SOCO had already gone."

/=/=/=/=/

"Where is my daughter?!" Beth shrieked.

Chloe stepped from the interview room and flinched. "Oh god." She lifted her eyes to DI Hardy. "How about police protection," she hinted.

Hardy lifted a sardonic brow at her. It was all he could manage after being handed his latest case. He had never had to handle an abandoned baby case before. Now he was rookie and Ellie the experienced one. "I wouldn't try that. Just be honest and take whatever flack comes from that."

Beth wrenched the door open, saw Hardy and then her daughter. "Where the fuck have you been?!" she grated, hugging her daughter fiercely.

"I'm sorry, Mum. Really. I am sorry. Me and Dean got caught up in a police investigation."

"What-?"

"It wasn't us," Chloe cut in quickly. "We were at the wrong place at the wrong time. No one's dead. Just an abandoned baby. They wanted to be sure it wasn't mine."

Beth hugged her again. "Oh for god's sake, Chloe. What have I told you about going out at night? And what have I told you about telling my everything?"

"It's not mine, I swear," Chloe insisted.

Hardy watched them, hands in his pockets, feeling the ache of longing in his heart. He missed what Beth had said. He snapped to. "Sorry. Yes. She's free to go."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	37. Episode 5, Part 4

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Five. Chapter Four: Rushing In<strong>

Ellie glanced at the clock on the wall. It was gone six in the evening, but she felt light and fully awake. She had been working for thirty hours, straight, and needed sleep, but she had a few pieces of paperwork to finish before that could happen. It had been like old times, all day, playing sidekick to DI Hardy for the day, chasing possible mothers.

She was on a phone call with Maggie, hearing about the latest updates. There was no accounting for time anymore. One day ran into the next and night had ceased to exist. In front of her were three sheets of notes on Karen White, a pile of sheets on Tess Hardy; one sheet of notes on Bruce Stratton ands several pages of unsavoury rumours that had been spread about her husband. All of which she knew were false. He hadn't come out of an interview with a suspect in the child abandonment case yet.

"Ellie?"

Ellie looked up at the sound of Frank's voice, and stilled, blinking with a frown. Near him stood Becca Fisher, and with her stood a young girl wearing a hooded top with the hood up. Becca was holding the girl's hand, though it seemed a little odd to be holding the hand of someone who looked at least sixteen years old. The girl was gaunt and frail looking and she was shaking like a leaf, eyes everywhere. Any sudden noise and she flinched. The only thing that seemed to be calming her was Becca's presence. If you could call it calm. She was carrying one backpack on her back, and clutching a second in her other arm.

Then the girl met Ellie's eyes, and the DS's went wide. She knew that face.

"Maggie, got to go. There's a lot happening here. I'll call you back as soon as I can."

"We're snowed under," Frank began. "All uniforms are out. The Super has asked me to step in and help."

"Thank god," Ellie replied. "Thanks, Frank. Call Ann Strickler up, would you? She's down in Filing." Frank nodded and left. "Ok. Anna? You and Ann take the girl. I'll take Becca."

The girl whimpered, tightening her hold on Becca enough that the proprietor's face flinched.

"As soon as Ann is up here," Ellie ammended. "See if there's something we can get her to eat, she looks famished."

Moments later Becca was in one interview room, and the girl was taken to another. "You're sure she's safe?" asked she sat down.

Ellie frowned as she sat across from her. "I have two female officers sitting with her, giving her tea and finding something for her to eat. She won't be alone. She's safe here." As she said the words, she wondered what the station was protecting her from.

Becca sighed in relief, but it did nothing to remove the shaking from her shoulders or the haunted look in her eyes.

Ellie prepared the recorder and officially opened the session. It was a little more official that Becca was expecting, since she'd only found the girl. No crime had been committed as far as she was aware. Not in relation to the girl, at least.

Ellie started things off while her colleague began to transcribe. "Becca, why are you here, and who is the girl?"

"Why do you need to record this? All I've done is brought her in."

"We've been looking for her," Ellie said. "She may have witnessed to a very serious crime. Everything is being done by the book."

Becca wrung her hands and shivered a little, even though it was hot even for the time of year. "She just turned up. She said she'd been on the run and said she needed to speak to a policeman and did I know where the police station was." she replied.

"Location, time," Ellie prompted.

Becca looked confused. She had an inkling that the girl was far more valuable to the police than she had thought, almost as if they had been waiting for her, expecting her even. "About ten minutes ago. I was about to go to the One Stop for some hot chocolate for my flat when she walked towards me. Practically jumped out from behind the bins at me. with her hood up over her head, and I got the fright of my life. But as she got closer I could tell she was looking around, like she was looking for someone, as if she thought she was being followed. She had this look of a frightened rabbit, and would bolt like one in an instant. She saw me and almost curled up in a ball. I knew she wasn't a local. She had the look of someone who was lost. I asked if I could help and she asked me if this was the Trader's Hotel. I said, 'Yes. Do you have a reservation?' She shook her head and said, 'No, but I'm looking for my friends.' I asked for their names and she said, 'Louise Dusk and Daisy Hardy.'"

Ellie's eyes widened. Frank looked up from his piece of paper and glanced at her.

Becca continued, unaware of their reactions. "I told her that Louise and Daisy were there, but Louise had died. She looked so pale when I said it. I then noticed that she hadn't bathed in a while, and hardly had anything on her other than the clothes on her back and backpack. I offered to take her to Daisy, but she started shaking. She asked if Daisy was only with her mum and brother. When I said that they had a man with them, she immediately asked if Daisy was okay. I asked her if she wanted me to take her to the police station where Daisy's father works, and she begged me to. I hurried her into my car, and yes I know what that looks like. I called calling for Tony, my barman, to watch things for me. And I came straight here. She's the missing girl, isn't she? The news has been on about her for weeks and I saw her face on the milk carton yesterday."

Ellie ignored her questions. "Becca, you're on edge and I don't think it's just because of this girl or the recent murders."

She exhaled and moaned, raked her fingers through her hair, with her elbows still on the table. "Two of my guests have been murdered, one of them attacked in my own hotel, another guest who was booked at my hotel was attacked and died. I've had two leaking bathrooms and four cancellations. I worry every day that my business is finished. This is the kind of publicity that gets me the wrong reputation. I know I have to be a suspect, and it's making me lose sleep. I have guests who have said they would leave if they hadn't been instructed to stay. So I'm doing everything to make sure they're comfortable. If I make it through this I'll have to send the DI a Christmas card for being so persuasive about how important their staying is. I've had to add a children's menu, which I've never done before. And with the things I've seen and heard..." She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the temperature.

Ellie leaned in. "What things?"

Becca took several breaths, needing them to calm herself. "The day the German girl was murdered outside my hotel, I was in the back room going through the accounts and I overheard one of the guests on his mobile; a Mr. Stratton. Only he wasn't a guest. The original booking was for one adult and two kids. Anyway, he was talking rather sharply to someone. Something about, 'That one's your responsibility to deal with.' There was a pause and he had this smirk on his face. I could see it through the frosted glass. He said 'Trust me, I'll deal with her'. I kept out of sight. I was terrified he meant me."

"Do you think he's dangerous?" asked Ellie.

"Yes. I've seen him, the way he leans right over his wife, controls her every move, keeping the kids on a tight rein. And I'm worried for the children he's with."

Ellie had to restrain the urge to jolt, keeping her tension solely in her legs. "Why?"

"The girl, Daisy, she's DI Hardy's eldest daughter, isn't she?"

Ellie nodded. "Yes."

"She has this constant look of vigilance about her, and she doesn't like leaving her little brother alone, if she can help it. She's the one taking care of him. She's only a kid herself. I've only seen the mother do one thing for the boy and that was when he collapsed. A moment's hint of the boy being alone with Mr. Stratton and Daisy insists on being there. And the boy never wants to be alone with him, like he's afraid."

"We need a little more than that. So far it's just opinion. Have you seen or heard anything that suggests an abusive situation?" Ellie asked, careful to not let her emotions out. She had to be professional and objective.

Becca looked at her with a dismayed face. "I'd expected a bit more of a reaction than that."

"I'm the officer in charge of a murder investigation," Ellie put in. "My own feelings have nothing to do with it. Answer the question."

"He's sharp with them," Becca said. "I've never seen him hit or touch either of them. In fact, they shy away from anything like a touch from him. And that mother of theirs is very distant, particularly with Daisy. It's almost like she treats her as a servant at her beck and call, or someone else's child."

Ellie picked up on the odd note in Becca's voice at the mention of Tess Hardy. "What's your impression of the mother?"

Becca shivered once again. "I don't trust her."

"Why?"

"She sat down with Karen White some days ago and they talked for a good half an hour. I didn't hear the first part, but I could see her reaction as Karen left. She looked like the cat that ate the canary and washed it down with the cream. She was telling Karen things about DI hardy, things I didn't want to believe."

"Such as?"

"She was implying that he was a bad father, that he'd run out on them, had an affair. And then as she walked back towards the Esplanade to rejoin her partner and son, I saw the smile on her face." Becca shuddered at the memory. "I thought it was the look of someone who delights in manipulating others. I'm just grateful she didn't see me. After what her partner said on the mobile..."

Ellie and Frank shared a look. This was not an encouraging sign for Daisy's safety.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	38. Episode 5, Part 5

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Five. Part Five: Disclosures<strong>

The girl Becca had brought in was shaking as she sat in another room. And she was hugging a backpack as if it was a prized possession. They had to wait to question her because she had admitted to being underage and not having any family in the area. Therefore someone from Social Services had to arrive to act in loco parentis. Fortunately, the local office had someone who could show up at fairly short notice. And while they waited, someone had found her a hot meal and some tea, and a blanket to wrap around her shoulders to stave off the effects of shock.

The Children's Services duty officer, Beverly Thistle, arrived with the sour look of someone who had been slapped too often while getting out of the bed the wrong side. She had no qualms at all about living up to her name. She was a by-the-book woman in all walks of her life. She wore the kind of outfit that made people instantly think she was military; straight skirt in navy blue, a matching jacket over a no-frills blouse and a necklace of marble-sized pearls at her throat. Her hair was a thick, black bob-cut that never moved so much as a millimetre, probably in fear more than hairspray.

She took a seat next to Hailey and spoke to her quietly for some time. And the look on Hailey's face seemed to suggest that the woman was rebuking her for running away and admonishing her not to be a naughty girl again. Hailey said not one word. When she was done, she turned and allowed DC Anna Broome, and her seconder, PC Ann Strickler, to begin the interview.

Anna had begun the recording and looked at her gently. She would take this carefully, because they were missing details and the girl was terrified. She didn't want her clamming up. "What's your name?"

The girl swallowed. "Hailey Bridgewater."

Blinking rapidly, Anna remembered hearing the name included in a bulletin on missing children around six weeks earlier. She had also heard the name mentioned during the murder investigation. And she also recognised the face now from the photos on the case board. No wonder Ellie had reacted so strongly.

But why was she showing up now, why here? However, she controlled her reaction so she could learn more. "Interviewing Hailey Bridgewater, a teenager who appeared today at the Traders' Hotel and brought in by Becca Fisher, the owner." She straightened. "Where are you from?"

"Sandbrook."

Why did that place keep popping up in this investigation? Coincidences seemed unlikely given everything she had so far, and she had a nasty feeling Sandbrook would pop up again. And given the state of the girl, she doubted it would be a good 'pop up'. "What brings you to Broadchurch? Did you come to see some friends?"

Hailey nodded.

"For the recording, Hailey Bridgewater nodded. You're going to have to speak up, darling," Anna said kindly. "Who did you come to see?"

"Daisy Hardy and Louise Dusk. We all know each other from years ago, but Louise and Daisy moved away. I haven't been able to see Daisy in months."

If she lived in Sandbrook that seemed odd, Anna thought. If you ignored that she had been missing. But what struck her more was the fact that she hadn't heard about Louise. But, then, neither had Daisy until Ellie had told her, and she was in Broadchurch when it had happened. "Where's your family?"

"Back home. I don't know. If I'm lucky, they told the police I was missing six months ago."

"Six months?" Ann Strickler blurted out.

Anna continued, keeping her voice calm and even. "Your name has popped up on our system. According to our reports you've only been missing for six weeks. Your parents said you'd gone to work on a farm. Where were you if not on a farm?"

"Trapped. Locked in a house," Hailey choked. "I escaped a monthago."

"Where have you been since then?"

"I hid, walked a lot, and got a lift from a truck driver. His name was Alfie. He won't get into trouble, will he? He was very kind to me. Told me he'd seen my picture on a milk carton and told me to call my mum and tell her I was safe. But his battery was flat. I begged him to get me to Broadchurch and said I had family here. Friends count as family, don't they?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah. They do. Really good ones. How long have you known Louise and Daisy?"

"Since we were tiny. We used to pretend we were cousins. And then Pippa died and then we had to split up and go to different schools. It's not fair."

"No, you're right. It's not fair," Anna agreed. "But life is full of knocks, even adults get disappointments. Like when someone goes missing and they're sitting at home waiting for news and it doesn't come, or worse they get bad news. Do you understand?" she asked gently.

Hailey nodded and then answered aloud.

"Tell me about this house you were trapped in. Where is it?"

"In Sandbrook, Along West Street flats."

"How did you end up there?"

"This local man; Goddy, he's called. His real name's Godavari. I really liked him and he asked me out. He'd been flirting with me and giving me presents, so I thought why not? Even though he's much older. Then he had me try things, like shoplifting. I was arguing with my mum and dad, stupid stuff, so I was willing to do a bit of rebelling. I knew it was wrong." She lowered her gaze. "I got a thrill from it because I wasn't caught."

Anna glanced at her seconder's notes. "You did it at Godavari's request?"

"About five times."

"Did you and him ever do anything else? Drugs, alcohol, sex?"

"No...! Not a first," she admitted at length. "He gave me a drink. I don't know what it was. He had it in a bottle of water. It tasted slightly sweet and made me feel light-headed. I threw up so he took me to his house to wash my clothes and dry them afterwards. While we were waiting we had sex," she admitted. "I told him we shouldn't coz I was only sixteen. What if I got pregnant. He seemed to think it was a joke, but I couldn't leave coz he had all my clothes. Anyway, I got dressed and he invited me to a party at what he said was a friend's house. I went with him, was having a good time, but then... I remember being handed a drink and remember phoning my mum to say I'd got a job at a farm, living in. The next thing I knew I was in a room with six other girls. I didn't know any of them. Some of them I knew had been missing. I tried to get out, but the door was locked and the windows were nailed down. I tried banging on the doors, but no one came. One of the others told me the room was soundproofed so no one could hear us. Some time later, I don't know what time it was, we were all separated into different rooms. I ended up in a room with just a bed. There wasn't even a window."

"What happened?"

"Someone came, a man I didn't know. He held me down on the bed and had sex with me. He called me a bad girl and pulled my hair and slapped me. He hurt me," she sobbed.

"Do you know his name?"

"Wait, please," the social worker snapped. She turned to Hailey. "Remember what I said."

Hailey looked at her. "You don't run my life!" she shot back. "I will tell the police everything so stop telling me what to say and do!"

Anna glanced at her seconder and a had the feeling she was thinking the same thing. Go Hailey Bridgewater. Neither of them said anything.

Hailey wiped her eyes. "There was a new man every couple of hours, day and night, sometimes two at a time. I don't know their names. Sometimes they filmed it, like it was a movie. Sometimes they treated me really nicely. Others were cruel. We were moved around from room to room, but none of us ever left the house. I once overheard them talking to a new girl, telling her that they'd never be caught because they had someone connected to the police, covering their tracks. And it wasn't illegal because it wasn't a brothel. We weren't getting paid. The girl shouted out that we were being used as sex slaves, and slavery was illegal. I heard someone hit her, heard her screaming. They kept on hitting her until she went quiet. I never heard her after that."

Anna and Ann shared an alarmed glance. This was sounding like a parent's worst nightmare. Ann asked the obvious question. "How did you get here if you were locked in?"

Hailey needed a moment. "About a month ago when they brought food – oh that's Jules, bald head, build like a bodybuilder and a tattoo of a woman on the back of his neck, and Shrew, skinny, black greasy hair, they brought food and water, took us to the loo at set times. I told them that I was... good at shoplifting? I said Goddy could vouch for me. Well, they decided they wanted me to get something they needed, but they would have to wait for the boss to get back. Only Goddy didn't turn up, I think they meant Goddy, so they thought I was lying. I told them I wasn't. Anyway, they took me downstairs and there was a party on. They were bringing new girls in. I hadn't fought them since I arrived so they must have thought I was accepting my place. But it was crowded and they couldn't be as close to me as they liked. Jules, he suggested the kitchen since no one was in there. It was pitch-black outside, so it had to be night. They bolted the hallway door and left me there. I went through all the cupboards and found some bread and jar of jam. I stuffed them into my pockets and under my jumper and then found a backpack. It was full of our stuff, mobile phone, purses, ID, tonnes of stuff taken from the girls up stairs. So I took it and put the bread and jam in that. The back door was locked and there was no key, but the window didn't have a lock. So I climbed out and pushed the window shut, I wiggled it until the handle dropped enough to stop it from opening. And then I made a run for it."

"Why didn't you go home?"

"I tried, but we were always told that our parents didn't want us, that they all thought we were working or had left home. One girl escaped while out shoplifting and ran home. They went after her... She's under the stairs. At least she was. When she started to smell they buried her in the garden. I was afraid they'd catch me like they did her. I didn't know if Mum and Dad would be able to protect me, or if they'd just hand me over to the police!"

"Why would they do that?"

"Coz I'm a prostitute. Aren't I? I mean I'm not walking the streets, but that is what I am. That's what they turned me into." Hailey lifted her elbows onto the edge of the table and hid her face in her hands and cried.

Anna touched her arm. "It's okay. Take your time." She offered her some tissues and watched her dab her eyes and cheeks and blow her nose. "How did you meet Alfie?"

Hailey took several breaths to recover enough control to speak. "I moved around a bit, trying to hide. It was the following afternoon after I escaped I came near where Daisy lives. I happened to see her walking from school. It was far enough away from everything else that I risked calling out to her. She gave me a big hug and asked me what happened. I told her in a hurry, and... I think she had a clue what was going on because she looked terrified."

"Why do you think she knows something?"

"She knew which house it was before I finished describing it. Someone must be working on her, but she's too smart. I think it's her dad's influence. She told me to wait for her at the park, that she'd get me something to help. The thing is I knew she was walking with her brother and had him play a little. I came out and she gave me some money, a bag with some clothes of hers, a box of hair dye and food, and she gave me her mobile number."

"Daisy Hardy's number?"

"Yes. She said she almost never uses it, and she was right, because I've tried phoning it a couple of times and I haven't got through. Said she was leaving for a holiday in the morning with her mum and brother and would be meeting up with Louise in Broadchurch. She said her mum had business here with her real dad and she said she'd text me as soon as she had a moment to tell me exactly where she was. She said we'd be safe here and far enough away from Sandbrook that no one would know us. I asked her how and she said her dad was in Broadchurch, that he would help."

"She told me to get here as quickly as I could, but it's taken me a bit. I walked most of the way. Stole food where I could. I used the hair dye in a public toilet near Epsom. Daisy sent me a text saying she'd arrived, but her mum's boyfriend had come with them, some trouble at work. She said her mum keeps taking her phone. She told me she was staying at a hotel called Trader's. And I got another one the following day with a mobile number. No idea who's it is. I let the phones in the backpack ring, never answering any of them except mine."

"What phones?" Anna put in.

Hailey froze, but slowly she unfolded her arms from around the backpack and lifted it onto the table. She opened it, the zip of the main pocket almost opening the entire thing. And inside were dozens of phones, wallets and purses.

"Who do these belong to?" Anna asked.

"The girls in the house," Hailey replied.

"Do you know their names?"

Hailey shrugged. "Only some of them." She listed as many as she could recall and the list ran to twenty-three. "I switched them all off and just kept mine on, just in case Daisy texted me again, but she never did. I kept it on silent. I got worried and went to the truck stop looking in the bins for food. And this bloke, Alfie, saw me. I thought he was going to call the police. I told him where I was going and begged him to get me here. He said he was taking electrical supplies to Exeter so he dropped me off at Bridport, told me to talk to no one until I got to where I was going. I walked the rest of the way."

"You must be exhausted," Anna spoke.

Hailey shrugged. "Please, you have to hide me. They can't find me," she begged.

The social worker leaned in. "Hailey, we can put you in a safe place here. I can find you a foster-."

Hailey's face hardened. "No! Not you. I'm not going anywhere with you!" She looked at Anna. "Please? Can't you keep me here? I'm safe here. Where's DI Hardy?"

That lost look made Anna feel like her heart was being ripped apart. On the one hand, the girl was on the run from a terrifying situation and needed to be protected. On the other hand, she also had three outstanding charges of shoplifting to face. "Yes. We'll keep you here, and we'll find a way to help the others, Anna replied. "Do you have an address for the house?"

"You've got to get Daisy away from her step-dad first," Hailey insisted.

"Why is that?"

"Because he's the man Goddy takes the money to," Hailey revealed. She began to sag with exhaustion then. "He's never been to the house. He has Goddy to run it for him. I heard him on the phone to him once, told him that it was doing well on its first night, caught six girls in one go. I don't think Daisy knows what goes on there. But she does know the house."

Broome and Stickler exchanged a worried look.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	39. Episode 5, Part 6

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Five. Part Six: Small Town Paranoia<strong>

Hardy was waiting in the corridor when Ellie emerged from the interview room. He wasn't back on the job yet, but he needed to come up to speed if he was to slip back into it, and he needed to do that quickly. And he happened to overhear someone mention that they thought the girl looked like someone on a missing person's report. He saw the one pointed at, and he swore "Anything?"

"Daisy is definitely being threatened. The witness has confirmed it. And don't try anything," she warned quietly.

"Why, do you think I'll hunt the bastard down?! Who is this girl, anyway?"

Although the girl had asked – very nearly begged – to speak with Hardy, protocol said it could not happen yet. But they would keep it in mind if he was absolutely needed. "This witness has been through a horrible ordeal and is in fear for her life. Put simply, the fewer people who know her name, let alone that she's in Broadchurch, the better. She's going to be a key witness for the police in her area."

Alec closed his eyes and rubbed them. "Let me guess. Sandbrook again?"

Ellie nodded. No point in concealing that. "So you know the drill."

"Yeah, I barely have anything to do because I've been prevented from doing my job. My daughter's not permitted to speak to me and she said she doesn't dare leave her brother alone with Brute."

"Bruce."

"Same thing in the end," he said and continued with his list and tried to ignore the grin on her face. He was sure she needed the emotional lift, and his unintentional slip would have served them both well. "Connelly still thinks she's in danger. Almost the whole town is looking at me as if they think I committed the murders. And now my doctor thinks I need to have the paternity test redone. Do you have any idea what it's like to not be able to do your job as either a parent or a copper?"

"Maybe not to this extent, but I did feel like I failed Tom and Fred by not realising their dad and I should've split instead of going to Florida. Would have saved a lot of time and money. And not seeing any signs that Joe was off elsewhere-"

"Ellie, you had no reason to think that. I didn't know at first."

"Well, I still feel amazed that Beth will even speak to me."

"She spoke to you?"

"Yeah, at the Echo. Almost civil, it was. She's still angry at me. Nothing much has changed since I went to see her after I found out what Joe had done. And you know what she said to me then? 'How did you not know?' I had asked that of Susan Wright that same day. It felt like a cruel twist of fate. I still don't have an answer for her."

Anna rushed out of the office and almost barrelled into them. "Sarge. I got it. The bus ticket was bought in Finch Lane, but I got the destination wrong. It's the bus stop on the High Street, outside the Trader's Hotel."

Ellie almost gave a victory fist. "Get a couple of uniforms up there and tell them to look for a gold chain. And a large seakale plant."

/=/=/=/=/

The Super's eyes were wide. "A grooming ring?"

The words were a whisper, even with the door closed and their backs to the windows. This was too sensitive to risk detection.

"Sir, we don't know who owns that house, how many there are or their connection to the Sandbrook police. But if we can find it and keep their contact from learning about it, a raid could be done to free the girls. Hailey knows a lot. Names; addresses. And she came away with at least a dozen mobile phones, some of which belong to girls that haven't been reported missing."

"To completely put them away, another girl's testimony is needed," Elaine mused aloud. "Maybe someone who hasn't yet been trapped."

Ellie's face paled. "You mean Daisy."

"Of course, I mean Daisy. Who else is there?"

"I need to warn Maggie and Olly to watch their backs."

"Can we risk any of this getting out?" Sandra asked warily.

"They're our best chance at finding out what the connections really are between Sandbrook and our cases," Ellie replied. "I'm going to give them the description of the house and its location. Maggie and her contacts can find out who owns it if I tell her. And Daisy and Hailey can give us more information on the names she gave us, groomers and girls alike."

"We need someone to speak to Daisy properly," Sandra commented. "Why haven't we managed that?"

Ellie's eyes hardened. "Because two someone's are limiting her interactions with others. We need to change that and soon. Trouble is, some of the questions we need to ask, I don't know if I can let her mother overhear them, and definitely not Mr. Stratton."

"Do you have an idea about that?" asked Elaine.

Ellie's eyes flashed as one hit her. "With all due respect, given the evidence, I think that idea should be on everyone's minds."

"We need to co-ordinate this carefully," Elaine cautioned. "Locate them all and hit them all at the same time. I'll speak to Sandbrook myself. In the meantime, not a word. Get back to the murder inquiry and get the murderers behind bars." She paused for a second. "Any word on the missingmother yet?"

"Not yet. Still looking. But we're pretty certain it's not a local woman. Everyone one of our expectant mums has been vouched for. It has to be a tourist or a midnight visitor."

"Hmm. That would make things difficult."

**/=/=/=/=/**

"Why is your dad staring at us so much?"

Daisy tried to ignore the feeling of the gaze and shrugged. "I don't know," she answered in a whisper. "I stopped trying to figure him out a long time ago. Besides, he's not my dad."

She turned to look at the girl sitting at the table with her, panting a picture to pass the time. Ben had painted a picture for their mum, to make her smile. It had helped, though Daisy knew the respite would be brief. Especially when he fell asleep in her lap. Again. Her mum hated her for it.

The girl had a tube taped to her cheek and barely any hair, and she was very pale. She was in for cancer of some kind. Daisy didn't ask for details. She could guess. She was about her age, probably a year younger, maybe two. It was hard to tell. She had talked to her for well over an hour about her home and family. The girl had been in hospital for months, and in and out of hospital for five years before that, so she assumed she missed her home and family a lot. She had not begrudged talking. And Melanie was nice. Wise for her age, as if being so ill had gifted her with sagely wisdom to make up for her short life.

"You haven't said anything for a while," Melanie noticed. "What did you tell your real dad?" she asked.

Daisy had confided in her about the secret note. "I wrote about Ben."

"But it's what you weren't saying that's worrying me, Daisy," she said, as if they had been firm friends forever. "Knowing that you're keeping secrets and have a scary man in your life, who might as well be your step-dad, I don't know how safe my friend is."

Daisy liked having a new friend, but she was not ready to have her as a friend if she wasn't meant for this life for long. She had lost too many to shoulder another loss. On the other hand, Melanie couldn't be blamed for things beyond her control. "I had three friends when I was little. Two of them are gone, now."

"No reason to give up," Melanie replied. "If you let it beat you then what's the point of living? And if you get that far, what was the point of being born in the first place."

"I know," Daisy sniffed. "Life is for living and enjoying yourself."

Melanie smiled widely. "Now you're getting it." She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, thinking it might be a nurse, but it was two visitors, one eagerly waving to Daisy. "Who are they?"

Daisy looked up and found a smile. "That's Chloe Latimer. I've seen the bloke with her a couple of times, but never really spoken to him much. He's around to protect her."

"I'd say he's her boyfriend."

"He looks like he's good to her."

Melanie noted the longing and sadness.

"Hi, Chloe," Daisy said as soon as she did not have to raise her voice to be heard.

Chloe had to hide her relief at actually seeing her friend, even though she had heard it from Becca that she made it safely back – if rather late. "Hi, Daisy. Heard you got lost last night. Glad you're safe. I see you found a friend here."

Daisy was grateful that her friend was concealing how much she knew. "Melanie Johnson, meet Chloe Latimer. And who's your friend?"

"Dean Thomas, my boyfriend."

"Hi," he said. "I've seen you around. I've not known anyone make a new friend so quickly before."

"I have some good instincts," Chloe said.

Daisy smiled. "Those are important."

"Daisy," Bruce called out. "Your mum wants you."

Daisy's eyes dulled. She slowly stood, reaching her hands into her pockets like she was straightening them. "We have to try again sometime, Chloe." She held out her hand as she stepped slightly forward.

Chloe spotted a thickly-folded note concealed in the palm of her hand, out of sight of Bruce's never-failing eagle-eyed gaze. She took the note by pretending to merely shake Daisy's hand. "See you later?"

"Sounds great."

"Daisy!"

"Got to go," she whispered. "Bye."

Chloe and Dean turned and walked away. But Dean looked back with a frown, like he was faced with a puzzle he could not begin to understand.

It was not too far from the truth. Only he was more aware than he was about to let on. "What now?" he asked Chloe.

"We have to get this to her dad. As soon as possible."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	40. Episode 5, Part 7

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Five. Part Seven: Awkwardly Going Along<strong>

Half way back to her desk, breakfast snarfed down and drowned in coffee, Ellie heard her name being called. PC Bob Daniels had finally caught up with her with a really big question.

"Mr. And Mrs. Wallace are wondering if they might be able to take their daughter's body home for burial. And I've just spoken to Mr. Gotleib. His flight home is at 4pm. He says their visas run out tomorrow night. I said I would have to speak with you first."

"Oh god," Ellie muttered under her breath. "Today of all days.

"Really sorry," he voiced contritely.

"Oh, not you, Bob," she assured him. "It's a long and complicated night. And Forensics haven't got back to me yet, so I can't even begin to tell you when the bodies can be released. Have you met the new pathologist?"

Bob nodded. " A couple of weeks ago."

"My god, she's got the eyes of hawk! She found exactly what we were looking for with Louise Dusk, and didn't need to do a second autopsy. Just looked at the body and had the answers. Brian told her the photograph found in Sarah Wallace's pocket was at the wrong angle and couldn't have been put there by the girl herself unless she had two wrists. She confirmed that Sarah's Arms are too short and the photo could only have got there if someone else had put it there."

Bob blinked. "You mean a plant?"

"Yeah. Like Broadchurch needed a weird clue like that. Did we have a sign up this summer, 'murderers welcome, we need something to do'?"

"Bloody hope not."

"Had to ask. Sorry, but we're not done with the investigation yet," Ellie said. "Ask Pete to go down with you. He can help with extending the Gotleibs' visas. And I still need to interview Mr. Wallace again. He's still a suspect until I'm certain otherwise."

"Right you are," Daniels replied.

She glanced at Hardy's office and noticed him still sitting there, looking numb but making it look like he was busy. She knew she should take him home. Actually, she was sure he was in there waiting for her to ask him to take _her_ home. When had she last slept?

/=/=/=/=/

Pete Lawson was good at his job. Liaison Officer often included offshoots and oddments that were ordinarily, at least formerly, left undone. Years ago, police didn't speak to the victim's family, or tell them anything. And here he was; holding out freshly couriered visas.

"Sir, your visas have arrived."

Mr. Gotleib nodded gratefully. In truth he would much rather be going home, with his daughter still alive. He and his remaining family had opted to remain at the bed and breakfast when everyone else returned to the Trader's. He doubted they would ever return to England again after this. Just minutes before he had been worrying how they would get Luiz's luggage home, or how much it would cost in excess fees and how much it was going to cost to get Luiz' body home.

They had a week's leeway to work it all out.

"Thank you," he said. "But my wife and sons have decided to go home. They are taking Luiz's things. I will stay and bring my daughter home. But first, you are finding her killer, yes?"

"We are following several promising leads, sir," Pete said. "As soon as they catch the man responsible, I'll let you know."

The family looked like they were about to fall at his feet in gratitude.

/=/=/=/=/

A few minutes later, Pete took a deep breath and rapped on the door of the mobile home being rented by the Wallace family. This one was going to be harder. As predicted, the Wallace family couldn't understand why they couldn't leave if they weren't suspects. Were they suspects? Why couldn't they go home and wait for Sarah's body to be released? Surely that didn't require them to be in Broadchurch?

He had no answers for them, except the usual selection of professionally-chosen, blunt statements.

"We are following several promising leads, sir," he replied. "As soon as they catch the man responsible, I'll let you know."

The second he had recited the tired rhetoric, he realised it was a mistake. For one thing, there was no evidence for or against it being a man. And they knew, before he had finished speaking, that he was telling them the same waffle he had probably told hundreds of people before.

"Actually, no, sir," Pete replied. "We haven't had that many murders in Broadchurch."

He was very pleased to take his leave. Or, more accurately, make his escape.

/=/=/=/=/

Christopher sat playing with his toys. He was singing little rhymes to himself, with just the odd word or word-like sound at various points along the tuneless tune. He stood up to observe his handiwork of mess and squatted down again. The ambience of his little world, unknowing that he was the centre of his mother's.

He felt eyes on him and looked up. He smiled at the sight of his mum and gran. "Mummy mm da cat mm a mm dog a teddy," he said

Beth understood every word. You've put the dog and teddy in the train?" she asked.

Christopher nodded and squatted down again to push the train around the circular track in front of him. "Choo-choo."

Liz smiled at the sigh of her grandson, oblivious to how special he really was. She hoped Danny's dead wouldn't make matters worse and leave Christopher spoilt or closeted.

"Caroline will be along shortly," Beth breezed. Caroline Daniels was her health visitor. At Beth's request she had been visiting her and Christopher at home. Caroline hadn't minded at all. "Christopher needs weighing again. He's growing out of everything."

"Where's Chloe? Shouldn't she be home by now?"

"After last night, we've been having her text when she's leaving school, going somewhere, or with Dean. She just texted me. She's with Sonya and Chelsea, walking toward the police station."

Liz folded her arms. "Is it safe?"

Beth shuddered. "I don't know. But I know Chloe's still scared. Everyone's on edge. And Chloe and her friends are still going around in a group. And Chloe won't go anywhere without at least one friend, usually two."

"That's just normal for teenage girls."

Beth shook her head. "No, this is more than that. She normally refuses when we ask for extra calls or texts. This time she didn't even give a look of protest. Mum, all the girls her age are scared. But this thing DI Hardy asked her to do... that she offered to do, no less! It's given her a bit more confidence, but... with this murderer going around... Maybe it just me. It's only been tourists so far, but what if there's another? What if the killer targets a local girl next? What if-?"

"Oh, god, don't voice it."

"How can I not?" she choked. "After... After Danny, nothing seems truly secure anymore. And knowing that whoever it is this time has it in for Alec Hardy... I've heard rumours, Mum. They said he did it, but I don't think he did. Every instinct I have tells ne he's innocent, that he doesn't have a bond in his body that's capable of those things. Other people aren't so sure."

"That's all that poor man needs," Liz breathed. "With his bad heart, a 'boo' at the wrong moment will have him deader than your father. And you know it. How's Mark coping?"

"He's also checking in on Chloe several times a day. I don't think he goes an hour without texting her every time she out of the house, and I must be doing the half hours between. And if she forgets to text back, we just fly into a panic. Like the night before last."

"And she didn't tell you off when you go into a rage?"

Beth shook her head. "When I saw her, the following morning, lastnight, this morning, whatever time it was, She just took it."

Liz turned back to look at the toddler playing in innocence. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think this is worse for the town than..."

Beth was grateful that her mother could not finish that sentence, and yet she had no argument. The shock of Danny's murder had prevented a lot of additional paranoia, but this time there seemed to be no such protection. Everyone was frantic. "I didn't want Chloe getting involved in DI Hardy's business with his daughter. But... Chloe's got her friends round her. Who does Daisy Hardy have? Chloe says she sits there like a little mum to him, never lets him out if her sight. That can't be healthy. If Chloe's scared. Hardy's daughter is more scared than any of us."

A knock sounded, startling them.

Beth recovered first, shaking her head and silently chiding herself. Her mother remembered just as she went toward the door. "Is that Lara's mum?"

"Yes," was all Beth could manage, not even having the energy to remind her of her name.

/=/=/=/=/

Chloe did not like that Dean had to leave her side, but two of herfriends were with her. So she was not alone, but it was not ideal. Especially when she had a special and very important delivery for the police station.

Dean was able to get her most of the way to the station once they left the hospital, but not as far as she would have liked. If he was to have the money needed for their future he had to get to his job. So it meant that Sonya and Chelsea had to be each other's protection. And he'd pick them up later and drop them off home so they wouldn't have to walk home alone.

"Be careful," he whispered.

"We will," she promised. They kissed and he reluctantly rode off.

Chloe took a deep breath. "Let's go. I have a special delivery to make," she whispered.

"You got it, then?" Sonya asked.

"Yeah, and I don't think anyone suspected."

"How sure are you?" asked Chelsea. "It sounded like she's awfully paranoid, and with good cause."

"That man didn't follow us. He glared at Dean and me, but he followed Daisy and her mum. But Dean was cautious on the way over here."

"Where is it?"

"Hidden in my jacket. Keep your eyes open."

The three did so. No one was a safe adult anymore.

"Where's Lara?" Chloe suddenly asked.

Chelsea frowned. "Sounded like something happened at home. Not sure what. She seemed rattled. She's gone with her mum on her rounds instead."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	41. Episode 5, Part 8

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Five. Chapter Eight: Pretender<strong>

Karen walked along the high street, staring at the paper in her hands. While the Herald was printing her articles, so far she still had not managed to get the front lead headline she believed the story required. Say nothing of Olly getting her main article and two subsequent not appearing at all. Instead, they had led with a sports story and more royal news! This was not what the public needed to know!

Gritting her teeth she whipped out her phone and dialled her editor.

Len Danvers was sitting in his office, looking at the papers in front of him and glancing up in front of him when his phone rang. He grabbed it, irritated at the interruption and letting it out in his voice. No one would be calling this number who was not used to his potentially answering this way. "Danvers!"

"You changed my article. Again!" she accused without greeting. "And you printed on Page 15!"

"Good to hear from you," he replied, and meant not a word of it.

"I gave you a story the public needs to hear about. An article full of information. Why is it still getting only light coverage? There have been three deaths here, all tourist girls!"

"Speculation, more like it, Karen. What facts you stated can be interpreted in more ways than the conclusion you drew. That's why it was buried."

"Alec Hardy is still on the force. He knew two of the victims, and the third probably died because the killer thought she was someone else."

"You want the lead? You give me an article that I feel can stand against criticism. Last time you got the lead it drew focus on a man who was innocent. Do I need to repeat the contents of the letter I got from Rowena Marshall's lawyer?"

Karen cringed. She could not forget the look in the woman's eyes as she spat on her. Nor the tongue lashing she got in the aftermath of Jack Marshall's death. "I followed the evidence."

"A town was worked up over nothing, and the investigation may have been delayed because of it. So far what you have in this case is the word of Hardy's ex, and how do you know her word can be trusted? Have you checked her record as a copper?"

"Career slowed because her husband was assumed to be the better detective. She has two sick children, one with a laboratory assistant who has helped her begin again."

"Is that what she told you?" he said. "Call me unimpressed. I thought you would at least back up your research with more than one source. How disappointing."

Karen was not to be outdone. "My sources are perfectly verifiable!"

"The timing of Tess Hardy's son's birth means that she had an affair. She cuckolded Hardy. The worst you can accuse him of is bad judgment in marrying her. And yet you believed his ex over him. I've noticed that you haven't said if you've spoken with his new wife."

Her steps faltered. "I never said anything about a new wife."

"I saw the picture. He was wearing a wedding ring in that picture that accompanied your story. A new one. Who's the wife? What's her story?"

Karen hesitated. She had had the chance to try to get Ellie Miller to speak, but she had known that the DS had every reason to not speak with her after her involvement that the Broadchurch police had looked on as interference. "That knowledge drove me to tell Miller to not talk to anyone, but she had already made that decision."

"So you do know who she is," he noted. "Then go after her."

"Have a little compassion-"

"Screw compassion! And since when did you have a compassionate cell in your body? You wanted to be a reporter, so get out there act like one, and it might one day pay itself forward on another story."

"I_ have_ a story! But you have reworded every article I've written about it!"

Danvers shook his head. "Call back when you actually have a story to tell." He hung up on her.

She squawked. "The devil, he-!" She thrust her phone back in her bag and sought a cigarette. This was insane! What was she going to have to show in order to get the public to hear the story?!

Given that the town seemed to wonder about Hardy's involvement, maybe that required more investigation. A copper gone bad would be an instant story, but the police held all the proof.

Meanwhile at the Herald office, Danvers looked at the two sitting across from him, hand limply holding a copy of the papers that Karen should have found. If she'd bothered to look. "How could she possibly miss this information when it is there to be found? How could someone who showed so much promise prove so incompetent?"

Maggie smirked at her ex. "Thank you for burying those articles and publishing Olly's rewrites in their place. I know you had to publish something; better the truth that her version."

A snorting scoff was the first answer. Then he managed words. "If there had been enough other news stories I would have rejected other stories she's sent. As it was I almost did that anyway. What I'm worried about is whether Hardy will sue. He's bound to, eventually. She has published things that your information shows are lies. A little digging and she would be on to the real story. That Hardy is being gaslit and may have been gaslit back in Sandbrook. Even her previous articles from the Latimer case could be dragged under the libel umbrella."

Olly grimaced. "I think she's so focused because she's angry that she missed the Sandbrook scoop, and because she believes that he's not the right man to be investigating as a lead. And now we know where this all started."

Danvers put down the papers he was holding. "What are you offering?"

Maggie answered, "We're thinking of publishing an article about how the wrong actions by a journalist can ruin an investigation or create delays at best. Karen will form the focus. The Echo gets it first, but then the Herald gets the first national run. From there the story will go everywhere."

"It'll be bigger than News Of The World," Olly added. "Because we have proof that one journalist obstructed the police in three major murder investigations, one of them international."

"And I can protect my paper from accusations where they failed because of their lies," he said with relief, the emotion breaking his normally severe expression.

Olly personally thought that a good faith effort toward Hardy - a published article that either gave his side or an essay that detailed an apology - would be a good idea, but he was not sure how to suggest that to his boss' ex. Especially if it sounded like they might be getting back together, even if it was just professionally. No, it would be best coming from her - if she agreed. And add to that; the Press rarely apologised, and even rarer than that actually meant it.

**/=/=/=/=/**

Ellie knocked on Super Jenkinson's door. As soon as her superior looked up she asked her question. "May I use your phone with the door closed? I have to make a call that I don't yet want getting around that I had to make."

Jenkinson nodded. She waited for Ellie to shut the door before she made her own queries. "Who to?"

"The Chief Super from Sandbrook is expecting a call from me. I'm feeling paranoid about any of this leaking to my colleagues. I need to make sure my husband doesn't hear one word of this too soon. And I don't mean because of the investigation here."

"Drake? He and I have had a couple of conversations," Elaine replied. "Why did he speak to you?"

"Because it's my case. Sir," she added. "And on a personal note, it was a private matter regarding my husband."

Elaine accepted that. And she had expected it, even if it was going over her head. She would overlook that part. "Make the call and you can fill me in as we go along."

Ellie dialled the number and put it on speakerphone. She waited for the answer.

"Sandbrook police, Chief Superintendent Drake speaking."

"Chief Superintendent Drake, this DS Miller of the Wessex Police, Broadchurch police station. Just to let you know, you are on speakerphone so Chief Superintendent Elaine Jenkinson can hear this."

"Hello, Peter," greeted Jenkinson.

"Ah, yes. Hello, Elaine, Miller. I wish we had had better circumstances for speaking. Did you get my earlier report?"

"Yes, and the updates from Miss. Radcliffe and Mr. Stevens. You said you have investigations going that link Bruce Stratton, a technician at the local genetics lab there, to multiple criminal activities."

Chief Super Jenkinson's eyes widened.

Drake's voice radiated the strain the investigations were taking on him. "I'm afraid it gets worse every moment we keep looking. I mentioned that we suspect he meddled with several paternity tests and other medical examinations?"

"Yes."

"We've found one hundred and seventeen major medical blunders that led to patient deaths and numerous side effects that were unnecessary. Never mind that at least seventy-five paternity tests that were meddled with. In each case, the DNA not already on file was replaced with his own. No one thought to run the tests again as a backup until one case was blown open over two months ago."

"What happened?"

"We have this divorce in town. Wife began it. There's a boy involved, and she claimed the husband wasn't the father. Paternity test run by lab Stratton works at agreed with her, but the husband refused to believe it. He went so far as to get a sample of the boy's hair and offered his own sample for another test at a neighbouring lab. That lab gave a different result, that he IS the father."

Both women's eyes popped wide, but only Ellie kept speaking. "What's the procedure when the results conflict?"

"When we got word of that, I ordered an outside technician to review the case to find anything fishy. She run the DNA of each against their previous results and found out that Stratton was substituting his own DNA for the fathers'. This was not what I wanted to hear because he is the top technician at the lab. So we have been investigating malpractice. The lab is facing going over all of Stratton's cases and rerunning the tests to see how many times he has done this. But she went one step further and checked when he was in the office. She noticed he was present for at least a dozen cases on days off. Including a paternity case that I believe you said you have an interest in, according to your SOCO Brian Young."

Ellie stilled. "You reran my husband's test?"

"And Stratton subbed his DNA for both samples from the potential fathers for Ben Hardy in the final report. She found the original swab still in the safe, because he couldn't dispose of it without being seen. There were too many witnesses for him to manage that, and while his reputation was stellar he does not have friends at the Lab. In every case they've discovered so far, Bruce Stratton had been working on it. But in answer to your question... yes, Alec Hardy is the Ben Hardy's father."

Ellie leaned hard against the desk as he knees felt weak. Her instincts were spot on. "Oh god. He is going to be devastated to learn he lost out on more than four years of his son's life because of this."

Now was not the time to mention anything else related to it.

"How come Stratton hasn't been fired yet?" Jenkinson demanded.

"The Lab didn't want him to know that they suspected him of anything more serious than tampering, especially not when the rest of his suspected dealings involved kidnapping and sex crimes. As I said, some of his meddling has led to the deaths of patients at the local hospital, but grooming children is just as bad, if not worse. It's now been passed to us and the CPS. Your reporters have unearthed evidence that should allow us to close in on the abuse ring that we are certain he has to know about, because it's run from his house."

Ellie's eyes lifted, a light bulb going off behind them. "The one I reported from our witness? They've located the Deeds?"

"Yes and yes. They faxed the Deeds through just minutes ago. I assume your witness is one of our missing girls taken by the ring? I won't ask for her name yet, to protect her. You did right there. But yes, Stratton bought the house from a local auctioneer, Connie Bridgewater, cash-in-hand. Her daughter, Hailey, is one of the missing girls."

Jenkinson pursed her lips. "How soon do you think you can close that house down?"

"Thanks to one of Mr. Stevens' discoveries, we have someone we can use to get inside the house and get the evidence we need to break the ring and arrest all of the members at the same time. We're setting something up and we hope to be able to spring it at dawn. I will contact you as soon as we're ready to move in. It'll be the final pieces we need to be certain we've got enough uniforms and CID officers on hand to get every member and client. But we'll need Stratton in cuffs at the same time. Can you do that?"

"It'll mean getting the doctors at our hospital on our side and keep Ben there. Stratton won't leave Tess Hardy and she won't leave without her son."

"Have them come up with any excuse possible," Drake suggested. "Timing is of the essence. We can't risk him or anyone else learning of the raids from anyone else, just in case we miss one. That's why it's taken a week to set up the sting. We have to assume that not all of them will be at the house. And if they're not at the house, we have to assume they are either at home or at work and plan for all contingencies. Are you read to go on my word?"

Ellie's answer was prompt, although her eyes showed how little she felt they were ready. "Yes, sir. We're ready. I do have one request to make, sir," Ellie put in. "I'd like all charges relating to the girl's dropped. They were forced, manipulated and threatened into criminal activity. It was not of their own free will."

There was a pause. "I'll do my best, because I do suspect you're right, but that's down to the courts to decide."

With the call over, Jenkinson looked at Ellie with a measured look. "What are you missing to be able to make an arrest?"

"Like Drake said, it has to be done at the same time. One person hears about it and they'll scatter. Other than that, I have everything I need to arrest and charge Stratton right now for the murder of Luiz Gotleib and Louise Dusk."

Elaine straightened in her chair. "You got the results of the third autopsy?"

"Just got them back. She was raped and a hand was held over her mouth to stop her screaming. Her teeth left bite marks on the inside of her lips. Still no sign of the epi-pen or Luiz's skirt, but if I did a search of his luggage, I bet we'd find them both."

"And Sarah Wallace's killer. What of him?"

Ellie felt an unexpected thrill in her confidence. "It's not a him, sir. She was killed by a woman, the woman who left the footprints Brian found. And I have a hunch on exactly who it is, but nothing definite until I can get clearance to go through her belongings."

"What of Hailey Bridgewater?"

"We have her in a cell downstairs. Her idea. She even insisted."

"And the baby?"

"Safely at the hospital. Last I heard, he's in good health just by first tests. They'll be running other tests and send us and Social Services the results when they have them."

"So we have no leads on who the mother might be or why she abandoned her child?"

"None, but I can't shake the feeling that I do know someone he's related to. Even though he was too young for anyone to be able to recognise features, I swear that I've seen them before."

"Well, figure it out on your own time. The murders come first."

**/=/=/=/=/**

He crept into the room, inching his way towards the bed. She was there, alone this time. He had been trying to get her alone for ages. Days.

He carefully moved his feet forward, feeling for obstacles with his toes. Her bed was by the window, on the far side of the empty double bed. Her parents were at the hospital with their little boy. Bless. Or not. He hadn't seen anything good about this family to speak of.

And there he was, beside her bed. She looked innocent, lying there, except he knew things about her. Things she wouldn't want just anyone knowing.

He leaned closer, right in her face, just to make sure he got the right girl. Mistakes had happened before. He must have inadvertently breathed on her, because suddenly her eyes were open and she was on the verge of screaming.

His hand covered her mouth. "Don't do that," he whispered harshly. "Your life depends on you not screaming."

**ĐĐ**

**End of Episode**

**To be continued...**


	42. Episode 6, Part 1

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tardis:<strong> Count the adverts. It all started with me writing Life Without Joe (blowing my own trumpet). The title does not say why Joe was not there, whether he had died or walked out. It was just that he was no long there. No clue, no hint, no spoiler, no Joe. And just in case anyone else caught on before I did – episode four – that it was Joe I had to watch from a play back site because I was first burying my mum and then moving, so I actually missed episodes 2-7 until just days before the finale. My deepest thanks to bas_math_girl who saved me from being "spoilered". And, sorry, tkel, but it was not the BBC. It was ITV that made and broadcast the original. The BBC can only wish.

I got this idea after watching the original for the however-many time it was. I'd gone out to HMV to find a copy of The Politician's Wife and on the off-chance asked them if they had a copy of Broadchruch. As it happened the delivery had just arrived. I had the first copy out of the box at HMV Cardiff. There. Selfless advertising. And the Beeb still loses out. So I sat and watched it and thought I wonder what happens next? I've lived in hotels. I've been in a similar situation as Tom (and Ellie, actually, but that's neither here nor there), and I know there had to be more. Life would not have been cosy for Ellie.

So I wrote it.

LWJ was the result. And my readers liked it. Tkel refused to read it. And I fully understand and support her reasons.

However, within days of finishing and posting it I got another idea. I sat on it for months while tkel waited for the DVD, and by that time the plot bunny had stewed itself into a balrog (another plug, this one's LOTR). Tkel was busy. I was in Preston for the long awaited arrival of my first 'born in Britain'; grandchild. I have been busy looking after him and my daughter and fighting for justice for my son-in-law that the Balrog sat forgotten in a dark room on my data pen for a year. Date of starting: September 22 2013. I had a brief outline and a few notes. I basically picked at it for a year until both tkel and I were ready to put in the time and effort.

November 1 2014. One month turned into three weeks, and over 285400 words later we had a first draft. Chris Chibnall may own the copyrights and I bet his sequel is brilliant, **LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILERED! **but he doesn't have a murder. Read it and weep, Chris, my friend. Mine does. *Taggart voice* There's been a murder!

This has been a phenomenal achievement for both of us. Neither of us has done anything like this before. Working with a co-writer is not recommended for everyone. It takes a lot of patience, stamina – I had to sprint to keep up – and a strong willingness to share. I hate sharing. :D

This is going to hurt. Have tissues at the ready. I don't pull punches. Those who know my work know I have plot twists and unexpected clues, and if you miss them you'll be left behind. Make notes. You'll need them.

This is based on Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch, and a few details from the novelisation by Erin Kelly (another shameless advert), with the addition of some aspects of LWJ. If you haven't seen Broadchurch, why are you reading this first? Go away and do so, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you haven't read the novel, don't worry. I have, and you can take or leave it. It has some minor flaws and mistakes, but it is a good read. You'll find my review on Goodreads (another shameless advert) website.

Tkel and I half thought about including our own map, since the blatant error in Erin's was the mistake you'd expect from a small child. Beth's and Ellie's houses are across a field and they can see each other's kitchens; it was mentioned in the original and in the book. So I'm scratching my head trying to work out why Erin's map put them practically back to back, separated by a row of houses.

But, anyway, advertisements aside (Did you count them? There are seven.), I hope you like Sins Of The Father. We've kept it in the same style as the original eight episode format, but each one will have a different number of chapters. Hopefully, they will all be posted by the time ITV airs the sequel. Though try not to compare. Enjoy.

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><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tkel:<strong> Being an American with not a lot of time on her hands to learn the tricks for getting things early from the other side of the pond, I had to wait to see Broadchurch. So I had months of reading about how good it was and how amazing David Tennant's performance was. It was more than a bit frustrating, but I give the people on my friends list credit for not spoiling anything other than Hardy's having a medical condition and one other detail. During the wait I noticed my friend Moley post a Broadchurch fanfic. Well, I did not read it. I even made a point of trying to forget I even saw one was posted. Finally the series came to BBC America, although I did not know that about two hours worth of material was cut to make room for the commercials. I was pissed off when I heard that, and promptly decided that where productions with Tennant were concerned, I would buy Region 2 only. (I had learned that computers can be manipulated to act like an all regions playing DVD player, although as of when I wrote the original note I had not yet figured it out. Trust me, I will learn soon enough.)

I was in awe from the first episode. A great cast, a heartbreaking case, and I was trying to figure out who did it almost immediately. Some I figured were unlikely, or would not be the killer without more plot twists. By the end of Episode Seven, I had a sinking suspicion who the killer was. It did not help that my memory chose then to recall what it thought was the title of Moley's fic. But I waited until the final moments had aired, and was in a bit of emotional turmoil. (Which I think we were supposed to be.) At that point, I got on Live Journal and read all five posts of Moley's fic, pausing only to comment. I needed more time to digest it fully, but I had reread it about four times by the next evening.

The thing is, my muse is the type to get ideas at the drop of a hat sometimes. Sometimes no hat, as Moley has reminded me. (giggles) Often when I am trying to work on other things. Bonzina (what I call my Muse) instantly thought about what might happen afterward, thinking about the unresolved things still there from the original story. She had thought of a plot bunny that had me intrigued. So I emailed Moley with the idea, having no idea that it would prove to be the platform for an idea that had been languishing since Life Without Joe was finished, and we bounced it back and forth – like you do when you beta read each other's work. I don't think we'd emailed about it for more than a day before it transformed into a plot balrog. (For those of you who aren't Tolkien fans, that's a giant creature of shadow and flame, "a demon from the ancient world" to quote Gandalf from the movie version of "Fellowship". Practically impossible to get rid of, as the movie showed.) Basically, it wasn't going to leave either of us alone by then, so we agreed to work on it together as soon as we could both make the time for it. Meanwhile we bounced more ideas back and forth until we had our first outline ready.

Well, although we did a lot of preplanning, we didn't get to writing until I mentioned I was thinking about what to do for NaNoWriMo 2014. Moley noted about Broadchurch 2 being filmed, and we agreed that we should get our balrog finished and fully posted before the first episode airs on ITV. And I was also working on another mystery story at the same time. Only thing is, on that story I had trouble with the outline, and stalled on it in a big way learning why my writer friends gave me the advice they did the hard way as my muse was insistent on trying something different. So I got way ahead on my parts of the story, but I used it to figure out enough so I could resume writing the other story. Even though it may never see the light of day, depending on what I think of it in the end.

Of course, I was very busy. Moved to a new city, started a new job that now means I have a profession, and had to focus on settling in. But I had managed enough that I could do NaNo once again. Although I'm still stalled on that one other story, I know one of the things I need to do with it. I also wrote a few other things, including a Christmas present for another friend – on a dare from said friend. So my grand NaNoWriMo total for 2014? 124,977. Yes. That's correct. And yet someone else managed just over 150,000. You'd better believe I intend to beat that next year.

So that's my side of the story. There will be another Broadchurch collaboration, based off an idea I had from working on this story. Stay tuned about that one. Or maybe... more than one, given that Moley and I seem to be off in slightly different directions for that one. (grins) This was a fun project, and I hope that Moley and I find additional ones to work on together. Not counting the beta reading we already do, or the times when I was utterly stuck on a story and needed more than prodding but wholesale suggestions to get it moving again. (bigger grin)

* * *

><p><em>Summertime. Outdoors. Four girls played together in a garden, giggling as small children do. No cares of the world touched them, or if they did they pretended they did not exist.<em>

_There was an undercurrent of sadness. They all knew they would part ways, but no one knew just when they would see each other again. But it was the birthday of one of them, and so they could forget about most troubles for the time being._

/=/=/=/

_Another summer. The air was pleasant, but there was a hint of tension. Mostly in the adults watching._

_Three slightly older girls sat on a beech making a sandcastle. They shaped it in honour of the fourth who did not come, looking up at each sometimes in wonder of why they had not heard from their friend._

/=/=/=/

_Two young teenage girls walking together in a busy street, shopping. They tried to laugh, but the aura around them was oppressive. Especially on the taller one. A great weight was hanging on her shoulders, but the haunted look had purchase in the shorter one._

/=/=/=/=/

_Darkness surrounded the area. The moon's light barely shone through the clouds._

_A girl stepped into the light of an open window. She kept low, trying to be invisible. She glanced up at the moon, her face that of the shorter of the teenagers. But her formerly honey-blonde hair had been dyed black. Her face was pale even for the light out, and her whole being spoke of knowing a terror unspeakable._

_She looked and listened, closing the window before she repeated the listening. Then she fled into the shadows, as quietly as she could._

/=/=/=/

_Under the same moonlight and yet slightly different clouds angled overhead a sixteen year-old girl stood alone, partly in shadow, leaning against a brick-built bus shelter with the sound of the ocean not far away. It was the taller of the girls. Her long hair fell in waves about her shoulders and at her throat hung a locket that rested against her t-shirt. It was old, as old as she felt. She bore herself as one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, silhouetted against the light of an opening door behind her._

_In the distance the echoing cry of a newborn child broke the silence of the night._

/=/=/=/=/

**Episode Six. Part One: Gathering The Strands**

Broome was examining paper records with an air of one who had had victory snatched from their fingers. She had been so sure that the bus ticket would be the clue that clinched the entire investigation. But it had come to nothing. It had the killer's boot print on it. That was it. Otherwise, she would have thrown the slip of paper in the bin.

The thing that nagged her was why Sarah Wallace would have been on that bus in the first place. It was the farm and orchard up Finch Lane, all the way to the B-road at the top.

Suddenly, her phone rang. The number on the screen matched one she had dialled an hour ago. She'd sent PC Bob Daniels to the bus station in Bridport to trace the bus and the driver. She pressed the green button.

"Broome... Hi, Bob." She grabbed a notebook and pen and listened for a long moment, jotting down notes in shorthand. Then her eyes widened. "And that's for certain...? Oh, thank you. That is very good to know. I owe you for checking that." She laughed. "Yes, well, we'll see about that. Later." When she hung up she looked up at the white board the team was using. "Ellie?"

Ellie, who was standing there looking for connections between two murders and a third possibly attempted case, turned around. "What did you find?"

"That was Bob Daniels at the bus station. He traced that ticket. I was right. It was bought at Finch Lane. But, it was bought there earlier in the day. Finch Lane, at the Stage Four bus stop, Mr. Grebes bought the ticket at 11:26 am for the 41 bus. He's a regular on the route. The driver knows him well, always gets on at that stop, sometimes with his sister, always refuses to use his free pensioner's pass to pay full fare. On the day this ticket was bought, Mr Grebes was the only passenger on that bus for the date the ticket was issued. Mr. Grebes got off at the High Street and he got on again for the return journey two hours later. But he'd lost his ticket and that's why the return fare wasn't used. Grebes bought a new ticket, even though the driver, Mr. Gregory Filbert, said he knew he'd been issued one and let him on anyway. igh Street. HighSarah Wallace never boarded any bus. The driver never saw her."

"Relief driver, shared route?"

Anna shook her head. "Neither. Mr. Filbert always does that route and he was driving that day. And there's no evening service after six. I think we can confirm that Sarah Wallace was not on that bus. We have to assume she was merely at the bus stop that evening."

"Any other bus routes that stop at those two bus stops?"

"No. Only that one. There used to be one all the way to Weymouth, but that was stopped four years ago, in favour of the rail service."

"Fat load of good that is, our station closed in 1956," Ellie grumbled. "So the question is, what was Sarah Wallace doing at the bus stop?" she wondered.

"Couldn't have been a boyfriend. She was here on holiday," Anna sound-boarded.

"I have your answer," Frank spoke, retrieving several sheets of paper from the printer. "Been on to Facebook. They've been dragging their feet. Said British law and our problems were nothing to do with them. So I mentioned the international agreements between Britain and the US, quoted several paragraphs and clauses. They must have gone away and read them, because look what just came through."

He handed the sheets to Ellie. The paper was still warm from the printer.

Ellie flicked through them. "Sarah Wallace was using her phone. SOCO wasn't joking when he said she was a keen facebooker. What do they call them, tweeters?"

"No, Sarge, that's Twitter," Anna corrected her patiently.

"It's all one and the same to me."

"This lot is just the last 12 hours of Sarah's activity on Facebook. But I skimmed them as they were printing. Go straight to the final page."

Ellie got to the final page reading several posted messages, all date stamped. "18:35, going to dinner, will be back on later. 19:47 Am stuffed. Food here is so good I could make a pig of myself. 19:48 From John Wallace; Sarah, where are you? 19:49 Just nipped out for a walk, really stuffed, working off my dinner, will be back in, in a minute. 19:49 From Mariana; Haha, and then you'd put back on all that weight you lost. 19:49 no, not going back to that. Took me long enough to lose it. 19:50 From John Wallace; Ok, just don't be too long.19:50 From Mariana; You look gorgeous. 19:51 Thanks. I feel it too. 19:52 From Mariana; Mind you, you always did. But now you look even better. 19:53 Does that mean you'll marry me now? We can get married in England, you know. 19:54 Yeah, when you're legal. 19:55 I can't believe I got to sixteen and they raised the legal age. I now have to wait another two years. It's not fair. 19:56 Unless you ask for parental consent. 19:57 My parents would never agree. They're both great and really good people, but they're homophobic. 19:58 From Mariana; Yeah. Don't remind me. Met them once, remember? 19:59 Erfvnm 20:00 From Mariana: What? Lol. What happened there? Dropped your phone? 20:05 From Mariana; Are you still there? 20:07 From Mariana; Sarah? 20:13 From Mariana; has your phone died again? You seriously need to replace the battery. 20:17 From Mariana; You're still logged in, so I know you're there. 20:25 From Mariana; Sarah, you're usually on your laptop by now. What's going on?"

Anna covered her mouth to hold in a sob. But Ellie wasn't done yet, and it was already pulling at her vocal chords to continue.

"20:30 From Mariana; Sarah? Where are you? 20:58 From Holly; Broadchurch looks gorge. 20:59 From Holly; Just googled it. You lucky sod. Don't get sunburned. 21:15 From Mariana; Sarah? Are you back yet? 22:00 From Mariana; I'm off to bed. Love you, babe. 08:03 From Mariana; Sarah? Are you there? 08:19 From John Wallace: Sarah, you said you'd be back by now. Where are you? 08:20 They said on the news someone died in Broadcurch. Message me. 08:45 From Mariana; Sarah? Please tell me you're all right."

Ellie stopped then. She had thankfully reached the end of the last page. Anna was in silent tears. Even Frank looked ready to burst the flood banks. Ellie took a deep breath and wiped both cheeks with her hand.

"Did anyone think of sending an officer to give Mariana the news?" Frank asked.

"Of course we bloody didn't!" Ellie erupted. "No one even knew who the other girl in the photo was, but I think we can bloody guess now...! Sorry."

Frank gave her arm a gentle supportive squeeze.

Anna drew several calming breaths. "I think we can glean some important clues from that conversation."

"Like what?" Ellie could see it too, but right now she was too emotional to speak, so she let Anna do it.

"Sarah's typing is accurate, concise and uses punctuation. Right up until her last message."

"E. R. F. V. N. M. What is that? Text speak? One of them textisms?"

"I've not heard of it," Frank spoke. "And I use them with my daughters."

"No, It's more simple than that," Anna put in. "Look at the pattern? The letters are going from top left to bottom right. I think someone tried to take the mobile off her. I think that's the moment she was attacked."

"Ok," Ellie took a whiteboard pen and wrote it on the board; ETD 19:59. She circled it. "So where does the bus ticket come in?"

"It was on the wearer's shoe," Frank supposed.

"The killer's shoe must have picked it up at the bus stop, where Enoch Grebes got off and dropped it," Ellie guessed. "And it stayed on the shoe because..."

"They drove away from the bus stop," Frank took it up. "SOCO said the body had been stored somewhere enclosed, folded up, until it was dumped hours later."

Ellie's eyes widened. "Sarah could have been in a boot of a car all night before she was left in my driveway. She's not a short girl. How many cars have a big enough boot to hold a body 5' 7" tall?"

"It has to be a saloon," Anna suggested.

"No they'd have to have laid it down," Ellie dismissed. "Brian said she was upright. Blood pool pattern was in her buttocks and heals."

"A people carrier," Frank put in. "There's a gap between the rear seats and the rear doors. It would take a pretty strong person to do it, but it can be done."

"Got a vehicle we can test it on?" Ellie asked.

"Well, yes, mine. It's downstairs in the car park."

"Good, find someone who's 5' 7", a second person who's close in build but maybe a little stronger, and test your theory."

Frank hurried off to do just that.

"Ok, details," Ellie turned to the board. "What have we got?"

"Unused return ticket, bought by Enoch Grebes. And he couldn't have done it. He's a frail old man and he doesn't have a car."

"He also has no motive and no time to do it, and he has a cast iron alibi all day. We checked," Ellie dismissed. "Window of attack is no longer several hours. It's there in black and white. On the dot 19:59. We're looking for anyone without an alibi, who drives and has a grudge against my or my husband. Who in town has a people carrier?"

"There's more," Anna said carefully. "I was looking at phone records of our various persons of interest. There's a text that was sent from Daisy Hardy's phone within that time window, 20:00 exactly. It said: 'At the Traders' Hotel in Broadchurch. Am tired but unharmed so far. Hurry'."

"Where did you get that?"

"It was on Hailey's phone. She replied with, 'Has your mum given you your phone back?' And the reply said, 'Not yet, she's gone out for petrol and Bruce is downstairs getting drunk as usual. I saw my mum check my phone so I'm deleting messages as I go'. To which Hailey replied, 'We better use a code, just in case someone else tries to text me on your phone'. The key there, 'someone else'. Someone else was using Daisy's phone. And Daisy's last message that night was 'Chrysanthemum, my dad's favourite flower. My mum can't spell it. Use it every time you text'."

"That corroborates what I've heard," Ellie commented.

"There's nothing for six hours, until 02:01, when Hailey was messaged again with, Hi, having a great time, just gone to bed'. What seventeen year-old stays up that late, especially one that is as ill as Daisy?"

Ellie agreed.

"Hailey is convinced that Daisy did not send it. The code word is that night, Daisy's mobile had absolutely no outgoing activities to Hailey until yesterday."

"She's been messaging Chloe Latimer," Ellie announced. "They used the same code. What did Daisy's last message say?"

"It said, 'Found my phone. Mum keeps hiding it in different places. Where are you? Please tell me you're almost here. Ben's in hospital and I'm getting scared. Chrysanthemum'."

Ellie grabbed the paper Anna was holding, confirming the words with her own eyes. "She found her phone. It was hidden in different places? That means her mum is deliberately blocking her from contacting her dad. Alec might be able to challenge the custody arrangement now, or at least argue for better contact. If we could just get a full statement from her about what's happened, on record."

"Ellie? Do you have a moment?"

She looked up and saw Brian Young looking rather grim and yet satisfied.

"Good work, Anna. See if you can find Frank and get the results of that experiment," she told Broome, who nodded and took the papers back to her desk before leaving the CID room.

/=/=/=/=/

"Why ask me to come back here to your office? Why not say it in the open?" Ellie demanded.

"Anyone could have walked in," Brian began. "And with the DI looking into that baby's origins, I don't know where he is and I don't want him to overhear this. Something like this should come from you."

Ellie stiffened. "What did you find?"

"Those footprints found at your house that seemed too faint to compare? I found one that was clear enough, and ran it through the database. It belongs to a woman's shoe, police issue boot, size seven."

"So? I walk up and down that path, so do several of my mates from the station."

"Yes, but there's a big difference between our boots here in Broadchurch and those up at the Met Office. So, on a hunch I asked my counterpart in Sandbrook to run it against any shoe prints in their database. I learned that the style of sole is the new design, issued to police officers in the Met from the beginning of June."

"Who in Broadchurch would have those boots?" Ellie asked, and then bit her tongue. She stared at him, screaming inside for him to clarify or refute what he was implying. They both knew there was only one known Metropolitan Police officer in Broadchurch.

And as much as her instincts and the evidence was suggesting what she suspected he was about to tell her, part of her wanted to be wrong. For three people's sakes.

"It gets worse," Brian continued. "I sent him the print profile. There was an incident where they didn't realise a crime had been committed and several female officers had to have their soles examined for elimination purposes. This particular sole profile, while not an exact match in the wear and tear marks, is consistent in terms of how a particular person on the force walks."

"Do you mean Sarah Wallace was murdered by a woman?" That was the first question out of her mouth, but Ellie had several more. But this was just circumstantial. Wasn't it?

"I believe that Sarah Wallace was murdered by the woman who left those footprints. And that woman is someone from the Metropolitan Police."

Ellie did not need a name and, thankfully, Brian was reluctant to actually verbalise it. There was only one woman who fit that description who had been in Broadchurch in recent memory. In fact she was still here. But it was still only circumstantial. They needed more than a boot print. For all they knew she could have come to the house, knocked on their door but found them not in, had left the shoes on the doorstep and gone away again. There was nothing connecting said woman to a murder. Coppers did go bad from time to time, but the one Brian seemed to be implicating was a by-the-book officer.

No wonder Brian had not wanted Hardy to overhear this from the wrong source.

Ellie was silent, numb. Now she knew exactly how her husband must have felt when he realised who had to be Danny's killer.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Take the information to the Chief Super; no one else," Ellie gulped. "Keep a lid on it. I'll have to find the right time to tell Alec."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	43. Episode 6, Part 2

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Six, Part Two: A Father's Protective Instinct<strong>

Hardy hurried into the Social Services office in Bridport; a man on a mission. At the windowed main desk, a man sat going through a pile of freshly delivered mail. Impatient as he was, Hardy waited until he was finished.

"Good morning. I'm looking for Mrs. Henshaw. Is she in?"

The man glanced at the duty board on the wall on his side of the glass and saw her name. "Yes, sir, she's in. Do you have an appointment?"

Hardy flashed his badge.

"Oh. Well, you still need an appointment."

"Can't I just go through?"

"Of course not," the man replied. "For one thing, you aren't staff. You don't have access or a key card."

Hardy secretly longed for the good old days when all this security wasn't needed. But he could understand it. This department of the government was there for the protection of Britain's most vulnerable children. He had to respect that. "Sorry. It's quiet urgent that I speak with Mrs. Henshaw. It's regarding one of her cases currently in Broadchurch Hospital. Could you let her know that DI Hardy is here to see her?

"Take a seat. I'll call her now," the man replied.

That's better, Hardy thought silently. He took up position that covered both internal doors, not knowing which one the woman in question would come through. Also waiting was a young mother with a toddler son. He wondered why they were here. The girl was well dressed and the baby in the pushchair was clean and tidy and well fed, playing happily with a crinkle plushie, seemingly oblivious to his mother's obvious uncertainty. There was a black bag on the seat beside her and another stuffed into the basket under the pushchair. Hardy wondered if that meant she had been evicted at short notice. He supposed the social services got plenty of hard-luck cases. He wouldn't want to work here. His heart would break too often.

He watched someone exit the far door and approach the young mother and ask her to come through to the interview rooms. With interest, he watched the woman lift a card key to a scanner and wait for the lights above the door to turn green. With a mild clunk the door opened and the women, girl, baby and all disappeared inside.

So, that was what the receptionist meant, Hardy thought.

After another two minutes, the door at the far end opened again and another woman exited. This one approached him.

"DI Hardy?"

Hardy stood up and shook the proffered hand. "Mrs. Henshaw. Good to meet you in person."

"Come through. We'll find an empty interview room."

The security key, the clunk and the doors and finally he was inside. The entire suit of small offices had the feel of a police station. There was no welcoming air here. Suddenly he felt a shard of worry for the unfortunate young mother and her baby. Mrs. Henshaw ushered him into Room 12.

"Please, take a seat," she said.

He did so. He felt obliged, as if he had been arrested and marched in here for interrogation. And, for once his line of work and reputation of being of few words and no comfort was a help to him. So, this was what it was like to be a prisoner. His interview with the Super have been in a private office, with a carpet and nice pictures. This room was stark, sterile and no place for an adult, let alone one to bring children into. He had expected to see a box of toys in the corner, but no. There wasn't even a pleasant picture to look at.

Mrs. Henshaw sat down opposite him. "So. What brings you here, DI Hardy? Do you have information for me about Baby Enoch?" she asked as she laid down her notepad and clicked her pen.

"None that's useful," he admitted. "I'm here for help."

That surprised her. "What do you need?"

It was hard enough to have got those last words out. But these would be even harder. "I need to know whether there's enough grounds in this information for me to win a new look at the custody arrangement for Daisy."

"Daisy?"

"Sorry. My daughter, Daisy Hardy. She's also in Broadchurch Hospital, looking after her brother, Ben Hardy."

"We don't deal with custody arrangements. You'd need to consult a solicitor in Family Law."

"I understand that," he quickly agreed. "But there may be a few things you don't know."

He handed over his handwritten notes on what he knew about Daisy's life, Bruce's actions, and Tess' comments.

Mrs. Henshaw read them silently. "You have a lot of uncertain information."

"Daisy has been prevented from talking with me ever since she arrived and for the five years before that. The look in her eyes when she saw me, the way she hugged me, she wants to speak with me. It was not her doing that I haven't heard from her. It has to be her mother and Bruce Stratton's doing. But I'm barely able to exchange a few words with her."

"It's not grounds to get children's services involved," she told him honestly. "We need something from her or your son to justify us stepping in."

He tensed. This might hurt him. "Ben might have my name, but I've been told I'm not his father."

"Did you sign the birth certificate?"

"Yes. The results of a paternity test had not arrived until after that time. Both Ben and Daisy are in an abusive environment, controlled and kept away from other people. Surely, that's enough to raise a few red flags?"

"You say abusive, what to you mean? Does your wife hit them, neglect them?"

"Ex-wife," he corrected. "Ben has been in hospital for several days and he does have signs of physical abuse. I don't know about Daisy. She hasn't been examined."

"Ex-wife?" Mrs. Henshaw repeated as she made noted. "Is it a possible jealous streak you're having, Mr. Hardy? No offence meant, but you have to look at it from our point of view."

"No. I was given access and visitation by the Courts, but my ex stopped me at the door every time. Since Daisy arrived in Broadchurch on holiday a few of weeks ago, I've barely seen her. A friend's daughter, Chloe Latimer, has befriended her. Got her trust. She offered to pass on any messages from me to her. I was desperate, so I agreed. Chloe came to me saying Daisy nearly broke down on reading it. She confirmed that her mother took her phone off her, a phone I bought her to maintain contact between us, as agreed in Court. She's terrified of the man her mother is with, and so is Ben. Daisy has been the one doing everything for Ben and is with him constantly to avoid leaving the boy alone with him."

"What's his name?"

"Bruce Stratton."

"Is he Ben's father?"

"I don't know," Hardy admitted.

"When you say, Daisy does everything, what does that mean?"

"During a police investigation, our officers observed that Daisy dresses him, makes sure he's fed and puts him to bed at night."

"While his mother is doing what?"

"I have no idea."

"How old is Daisy?"

"Seventeen, nearly eighteen."

"She's too old for Children's Services involvement," Mrs. Henshaw explained. "Did she keep the note you sent?"

"No, she told Chloe Latimer that she was afraid her mother or Bruce would find it." He took it out of his pocket and opened it out.

Reading it, the woman took a deep breath. "You easily come off as a father who's been trying just to reach out to his little girl - not so little, if you'll excuse me? - and in total ignorance of her life since you left. However, there are no grounds for our involvement. Unless the hospital gets in touch with us, we can't step in and remove the children, but we will pass on your concerns to Children's Services in Daisy's home town." She paused for a moment, her eyes going back to the notes he had written in front of her. "Your ex is at least turning a blind eye to something that has caused Ben to have the injuries he has. That is most definitely within our purview."

"Injuries?! What are you talking about?"

"Bruises on his wrists and legs that could be from being tripped, and his ribs have been bruised and a few have been broken, though none of the injuries were reported to a doctor. The doctor I spoke to suspects that these injuries have all put a strain on Ben's heart and may have caused his heart attack."

"Oh god," he gasped.

"The hospital explained us that not all if the injuries are consistent with typical childhood accidents. When I spoke to the parents, Mr. Stratton claimed Ben was a clumsy boy, but Daisy was overheard telling a nurse that he's not. When the doctors explained this, Mr. Stratton, who by the way has been refusing to reveal his own medical history or his family's despite your ex's claim that he's the father, suggested Juvenile MS. The doctors informed us - but not yet them - that they can eliminate MS as an answer. Not all of the injuries could possibly have been caused by an MS episode or fall. But, again, since the injuries are mild and not life-threatening we can't act on it unless and until we have firm evidence from a second medical witness, and that has to come from the family's local hospital."

Mrs. Henshaw's phone buzzed with a text. She took it out of her pocket and read it. "I've been called away on an emergency. Thank you for keeping me informed on the wider picture. Let me know what if you find anything about Baby Enoch," she said as she got to her feet. "But let me say this much, DI Hardy. Proving Ben is your son and not Mr. Stratton's would be the best thing to happen to that little boy. I wish you luck."

Hardy gathered up his notes and Mrs. Henshaw walked with him back to the main entrance, the doors clunking shut behind him. And with a warm cheerio she left him there and returned to the other doors; security tag, green light, and she was gone.

Hardy could not move. In his mind he was picturing what could have happened to cause the injuries described. Not for the first time, he desperately wanted to be wrong. The last time was when he first suspected Joe.

It felt even more sickening for him now. Unlike Ellie, he had had choices about what to do, chances to see what was going on. Now, he was firmly in Ellie's shows, seeing it from her point of view. And there was nothing he could do.

For the first time since he made the decision to accept the blame in Sandbrook, he wondered if the truth should have come out instead. Would it have made a difference? If Tess had been disciplined, would it have helped him or hurt him where Daisy was concerned? And what would have happened to Ben?

/=/=/=/=/

Disappointed, Hardy left and went to a local solicitor in family law. And then repeated everything that had been said

"You have enough to prove that you've acted within the bounds of the Court agreement, and it puts your ex's actions in a poor light," the man spoke. "Get confirmation from Daisy that it's her mother's doing, or at least that her mother has done nothing to ensure your daughter is allowed to contact you, and I will get you a re-hearing. The only thing that could go against you is the matter of her little brother. Social Services, from what I understand, does little to keep siblings together. But the Family Court doesn't like to break up siblings."

Hardy took a moment. "I had a paternity test run when Ben was born. It said I wasn't his father, but... I don't know if I can trust that result anymore. He looks like me, he has the same heart condition I have, and my wife at the time had me sign the birth certificate. Is that enough to push for custody?"

"Unfortunately, the Court would take paternity over birth certificate. You could sue her for not changing it," he suggested.

Hardy was reluctant. "Tess was utterly shocked and devastated when the result came back," he recalled. "And Ben is Daisy's little brother, no matter what. She's protective of him and from what I hear he adores her. I don't want to split them up. If she fears someone is abusing Ben and I win custody, what will that mean for him?"

"How did you find out about Ben's condition?"

"I was at the hospital for my check-up. My own doctor thought Ben was my son and gave me a full update on his condition. Ben had had a heart attack the night before. He was genuinely surprised when I said Ben wasn't my son. He said his condition is identical to mine and is inherited. As far as I know, Bruce Stratton doesn't have a heart condition. He works out, he jogs; he lifts weights. I can't do that, even with a pacemaker. My doctor urged me to have the test redone. I don't know what to do."

"Have that test redone," the man advised. "If this one says Ben is your son then you have even stronger grounds for custody. Your ex is at least turning a blind eye to something that has caused him to have the injuries listed here. What has children's services said?"

Hardy sucked in a breath. "They informed me that they are seeking a second opinion from a doctor once Ben is transferred home."

"I'm shocked that they aren't more interested. But not surprised. In their shoes, I would be cautious, too. Juvenile MS is tricky to manage and the injuries from a fall can be hard to distinguish from abuse. Have you seen the boy?"

Hardy shook his head. "I wasn't allowed. Ben's in a serious but stable condition and is only allowed close family in. Usually it's only parents allowed, but when the staff asked Daisy to leave Ben became so distressed that it caused a second heart attack."

The solicitor nodded. "I can take on your case, Mr. Hardy. There is enough here to take it back to Court on grounds of breaching an existing ruling. But let me be very clear on this. Proving Ben is your son and not Mr. Stratton's would be your only legal avenue to securing custody of him. Daisy is almost eighteen, at which point custody would be irrelevant, even if you prove an abusive situation is involved. If a new paternity test proves Ben is your son, it would be automatic grounds to force a re-evaluation given the deception. If the test proves otherwise, then we have grounds to sue your ex-wife of fraud and can push for child support reimbursement to yourself."

That news had lightened Hardy's mood to no end. That money would come be very handy. On the other hand, he felt bad for Ben if it turned out to be negative again. And he very badly wanted it to be positive. He didn't know who to turn to in Broadchurch to see it done. Ellie would know.

He turned his car towards home and was there in less than ten minutes.

**/=/=/=/=/**

"DI Hardy?"

Hardy closed and locked the car and looked around. Chloe approached him with her friends Sonya and Chelsea in tow. He greeted them warmly.

Chloe held out a note. "I got this from Daisy," she said.

Hardy took it and tucked it into his jacket outer pocket. "Thanks. I'll read it as soon as I get the chance and give you a note to take back."

"All right," Chloe agreed. "I'll be at the park at 4 o'clock."

He watched the girls return to the road and walked inside the police station.

No sooner had Hardy stepped inside, his ears were assaulted by a horrendous din. He could hear yelling and screaming coming from the duty desk. Someone was being arrested. As the man struggled to free himself from the cuffs, his arms came up and struck the arresting officer in the face.

The arresting officer immediately pounced on him to subdue him. Hardy could tell who it was now. Beneath the bleeding nose and torn lip was PC Bob Daniels. Hardy's eyes widened as he saw Daniels land a punch in the prisoner's face. As the Duty Officer cried out a warning, Hardy grabbed Daniel's wrist.

"Stop," he ordered. "Get up! Let him go!"

"Not on your life!" Daniel's grated. "I caught him watching my daughter in the bath!"

Hardy pushed him back a little way to allow the Duty Officer to help the man in the tracksuit to his feet. "Book him in."

"What?!" the man cried.

"You want to press charges?" Hardy asked the man.

The man paused. "No. He caught me fair and square. I just don't want to go back to prison!"

His face was badly bruised and blooded, but to Hardy he was instantly recognisable at the Peeping Tom he had arrested a few months before. "Well, you're going. Book him in for resisting arrest," he said again. "I'll speak to him later."

Bob choice that moment to have a go. "You're lucky I don't wrench something off-"

Hardy grabbed Daniels' shoulders and marched him up the stairs and into a room. He toed the door shut behind him. "Sit down."

"Sir, he was ogling my little girl."

"Bob!"

Daniels plonked himself into a chair by the table, spent and defeated.

Hardy drew several deep breaths, knowing full well that if he had tried that stunt before his pacemaker was fitted, he would have been a dead man now. He pulled out another chair and sat in it.

"I heard her scream," Bob whimpered. "I thought someone was attacking her. I thought I'd find her dead, like the other girls. And I rushed in there and I saw him at the open window. I climbed out of the window and punched him. He punched me in the face and ran off. I followed him, chased him up the street. And I arrested him," he admitted. "But I was so close to losing it and doing something worse."

"You can't do that, Bob. You're better than that."

"But he was watching my daughter in her bath!"

"You could be forgiven for what you did," Hardy told him. "The law has some leeway. He was on your property without consent, breaching the privacy of an under-age girl, and he doesn't want to press charges against you. Under the Law, as it stands, you could argue that you were defending a child and you wouldn't face any legal repercussions."

Bob sighed with relief.

"However," Hardy cut into his burgeoning triumph. "You punched him while he was down and cuffed. That could have you suspended and off the force."

Bob waited, holding his breath. But as he stared at Hardy he watched his features soften and reveal the understanding and the pain underneath.

"If it had been me..." Hardy hesitated. "If it had been me I'd have gutted him," he admitted. "I'll tell the Super that you showed exceptional restraint."

Bob was silent, staring at him.

"My daughter is out there, somewhere. And I can't get to her. And she's being stalked, targeted by the same person who killed the others. And I can't tell her. And there's a man out there, right now, who's hurting her psychologically. And I can't touch him."

"Oh god, sir, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"I know. And I'll admit something to you. I'd love to get my hands on him. What I wouldn't do in the defence of my little girl. Only she's not so little as yours." He leaned forward, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Understand, Bob. We're better than that. We have to be. Otherwise we'll be at their level. And the public need us to protect them from men like him downstairs. You need to be stronger."

"Both of our daughters are potential targets."

"I've been told mine specifically is a target. She witnessed the precursor to a violent crime and they want her dead."

"But there's rumours going around that you killed those girls."

"Thankfully, I can prove that I didn't," Hardy replied. "Do you think your Pepping Tom killed them?

Bob instantly shook his head. "No. He's just a Peeping Tom. Several of us in the canteen put names forward for possible suspects, but he was the first to dismissed. For one thing he had alibis. But even so, he's always known to look. Like he doesn't know what to do next. He's not right in the head." He took a breath. "Has anyone interviewed that reporter woman?"

Hardy frowned. "Karen White?"

"Yeah, her. Maybe you should check her alibis. She always seems to turn up as soon as there's trouble."

Hardy almost smirked. I'd love to, he thought. Instead, he said, "I'll bare that in mind. In the meantime, there's a crime I need to log in. And I also need to touch base with my wife. I suggest you go straight to the Super's office and tell her what's happened."

"Yes, sir," Bob agreed. "Sir?"

Hardy paused, his hand on the door handle. "Yeah."

"Thanks."

"Any time."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	44. Episode 6, Part 3

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Six. Part Three: What No Parent Wants To Hear<strong>

Hardy stepped out of the room, leaving Daniels to pull himself together, and walked along the corridor to the CID room. His wife's desk was deserted. Frank and Anna were in, discussing tight spaces and measurements. "Broome, have you seen Miller?"

"She went to speak with SOCO. They had some results for her."

He sighed. "Let's hope it's good news."

Frank grimaced. "We could use it. Any luck on finding the baby's family, Sir?"

"No one's willing to admit to someone being pregnant who's now not, but I also haven't seen anyone who looks anything like the boy."

"Odd," Anna recalled. "DS Miller said she was certain that she knows someone he's related to. She said something about his face seemed familiar."

Hardy looked again at the photo on the incident board. He stared at it hard, trying to see what his wife might have seen, or something he had missed seeing the baby for himself. After a moment he exhaled sharply. "Either I don't know them, or I need to clear my head to see it."

"Any luck?" Ellie called out, hurrying toward him and sorting the files in her hands.

"None."

"The interviews at the hospital took a while?"

Hardy took a breath. "I ran out of people to interview over three hours ago. I took a detour to Bridport Social Services."

That surprised Ellie. "To see if they had any insights on who his mother might be?"

"No."

"Then why?"

He wanted to take this to a more private setting, but decided the force would learn about it soon enough. Besides, being a bit more open might help him. "I asked for some advice on what I can do since I have a feeling my daughter is being at the very least psychologically and emotionally abused. They assured me that they would pass on my concerns to the Sandbrook office. Once I'd spoken to them, I went to see my solicitor. I've put in a challenge to the custody arrangement over Daisy, and to have a new paternity test run for Ben."

Frank and Anna's eyes widened, which Hardy expected. But Ellie was not surprised. Her only reaction was a slight increase in her tension. "You don't believe the result of the original test?"

Hardy took a moment to put together his thoughts into words he was willing to say before someone not his wife. "Between hearing about his condition, my doctor urging me to have the test rerun, the memory of Tess' shock when the original test said he wasn't mine, and Daisy's apparent conviction that he _is_ mine... it's been on my mind. If the samples were tampered with, even accidentally, then I've cost Ben almost five years of my time as a dad. I need to get that test done again. I've sought legal advice and have been told that either way I have a case to bring to the magistrate and I have grounds for a re-evaluation of access for Daisy, maybe even full custody."

"Well, that's good. She'll be out of that situation," Anna commented.

"But there's more to it than that," Hardy continued. "The doctor I spoke to at the hospital informed me that they are preparing evidence of physical abuse on Ben. He has bruises and broken bones. Some healing, some recent. He believes someone is making Ben think he's clumsy and blaming his accidents on juvenile MS."

"And?" Ellie managed.

"They performed a brain scan. The results won't be back for some time, but some of the bruising is inconsistent with a fall. I've had to ask them to wait, pending the current investigation, since both Bruce and my ex wife are potential suspects in a multiple murder case."

Ellie was silent.

Hardy frowned at his wife. "You're not saying much. You're the one who asked me if I would have been willing to take him in."

She braced herself, set the files down on her desk and took out one sheet before placing the rest in her lockable drawer. "We need to talk. In private."

Hardy was stunned. Didn't this renege on their agreement to be professional at work?

"Frank, we'll be in Room 6. Don't interrupt unless it's important."

Moments later they were in an empty interview room, the only privacy they could reasonably get, given that they couldn't go home yet.

Once Hardy closed the door, he walked right up to her. "What's going on?"

She took a deep breath. "I thought you would rather not have an audience for what I'm about to tell you, although it will become public knowledge at some point, but I need you to hear it from me first and I hope to buy us some time before it reaches more sensitive ears." She drew another deep breath. "I already had the test redone."

"What?!"

"Bruce Stratton has been suspended from Sandbrook Labs for tampering with and mislabelling samples. Dozens of paternity tests and hospital patients have been affected. When I read Mark's description of what happened, it was like I was seeing any of your collapse all over again. Then I got a look at Ben and I doubted that the original result could be trusted. So I had help in quietly getting a new test run. Sandbrook Labs have already begun to re-examine Bruce Stratton's work going back years. I submitted the results of the cheek swab you gave to prove your innocence in the murder of Sarah Wallace."

Hardy went still. He could barely breathe. "Ellie... what did it say?"

She handed him the paper.

He looked at it, his eyes moving directly to the results section. He had read one of these before, years ago, but not enough years to forget where to look. Instantly he choked on his breath.

"According to Sandbrook Labs, Alec... Ben's yours," she whispered.

He started shaking and turned absolutely pale. Ellie hurriedly moved a chair to catch his fall. She got there just in time.

She pulled another chair to sit in front of him. She could see the signs of a growing panic attack. "Alec. Listen to me. Close your eyes. You're in the garden, what do you see?"

"Chrys... anth... e... mums," he panted.

"Look at them, Alec. Deep breath, and blow it out. Watch the petals dance in the breeze."

Hardy took another slow breath, each breath slower than the last. Finally he relaxed, head bowed, exhausted, but calm.

It took a long time for him to manage a whole word. He lifted his suddenly heavy head to meet her eyes. "Someone didn't want me to fight for him," he cried. "Did someone put Bruce up to it? Tess wouldn't go that far, would she? She looked too shocked. She's not that good of an actor, is she?"

"Alec, you can't dwell now on what happened or on who did what back then. You had reason to think what you did. Whatever Stratton's reasons, whether it was deliberate in your case or not, he took advantage of it."

He tensed. "Bruce. He works in a Genetic Lab there. He's a bloody geneticist!" He burst out of his chair and to the door.

"No!" she shouted, moving faster than she ever did and stopping him from walking out of the room.

"Ellie, I have to bring them this result. Social Services said they had reason to take at least Ben out of Tess' custody. The bruises and injuries can't be explained away by MS. Someone is abusing my son and I can't let it happen again!"

"You have to do this by the book!" she urged him. "One false move and we lose this case and Social Services will take them both away, even from you."

That got him to cooperate with her.

She thought about pushing him back into the room, and closing the door again, but she was well aware that someone might have overheard his outburst. Might as well let them hear her answer. "You've told them you want custody. I have been worried since this was reported by the hospital, but I asked them, and Social Services, to quietly investigate. Ben's safe in hospital, and the staff have been careful to not leave Ben alone with either Tess or Bruce, but they're not letting on that they're doing it. That was my request. I have suspected Bruce of tampering with the tests, but I needed proof so I could arrest him and be sure there would be a conviction."

"How long will we have to wait?"

"Just long enough for Maggie and Olly to send me the information they're waiting on. Sandbrook should be sending something, too."

"Maggie and Olly are in Sandbrook?"

"No, they're in Fleet Street."

"Ellie, what's going on? Or can't you tell me?!"

She met his gaze evenly, pursing her lips in thought. "The case is bigger than we first thought. But we can't risk anyone outside knowing we know who the murderer is. It needs to be choreographed, or someone might slip away and warn the others. Give me more time."

"Chloe gave me a note from Daisy," he announced.

Ellie paled. "Have you read it? Have you touched it?"

/=/=/=/=/

Relinquishing Daisy's letter, unread, to SOCO was like having all his teeth pulled at once. Hardy drew it from his pocket, and dropped it into an effects tray from the Duty desk. He had never counted the number of times he had ordered incoming suspects to empty their pockets into these trays. Probably hundreds of times, maybe a thousand or more. And to finish off the horrid feeling in the pit of his stomach, SOCO waved him towards the finger print machine.

He numbly allowed Brian to press each finger and thumb to the window and roll them. The shame would have been all the more complete if they had still used the ink of a bygone era. That unwashable black ink that marked a person as having been arrested. Sometimes it lingered in the ridges of the skin for days or weeks.

Still, being in this room at all was as shameful as anything Hardy could think of. He had done it all now, both sides of the desk. DNA, cheek swab, statements, and now finger prints. He was so thankful that they hadn't asked for a sperm sample. That would probably have finished him off.

He felt like a common criminal. His only bright thought was Ben. His son. But it was soured by the fact that he had to keep quiet about that little fact until Bruce was out of the picture - he hadn't the first idea how he was going to accomplish that - and his lying, cheating ex, who looked increasingly likely to have been in on the murders, or at least knew the killer. He would go so far as to say it was Bruce, but he wasn't in the know enough to be certain.

He sighed as Brian thanked him, apologetically he noted, for his co-operation. He turned to find his precious letter being prized open with tweezers. By now it was clear that the letter comprised of several sheets of paper, and was most definitely evidence. Hailey's statement had made it so.

Chief Super Jenkinson presided over the entire humiliating ordeal with a detached air. But inside she was screaming to burst into tears in Hardy's place. He was probably the finest officer she had ever had the fortune to meet, and felt privileged to have served with him, let alone have him on her force. The heavens had smiled on her the day he had been transferred in from Weymouth. He should have gone back after the Latimer case had closed, but he had requested to stay. She could have kissed him in relief.

The efficiency and team morale at the station, CID and uniform, had upped tenfold since he had taken up permanent position. And he had been instrumental in helping Ellie get back on her feet, professionally as well as personally, and in gelling the community back together. Frankly, if Hardy stood for Mayor, she'd vote for him. Twice. But right now, he could barely stand on his own two feet.

Clutching the latest updates in her hand, Elaine made a decision.

"Miller, Hardy, go home. Time to get some well earned rest and get to know each other again. You've not seen enough of each other or your children in far too long."

"But, sir-"

"Not buts," Elaine cut Ellie off. "Get out before I throw you both out."

Hardy recognised the affectionate edge to her voice. All professional and proud of her team, her care and thoughtfulness had been apparent from the word go.

"Come on, Ellie," he said gently. "It's time to pick up the kids."

An abrupt knock came at the door and Sandra appeared.

"Sir? Just got a message from Top," she announced. "They've reinstated Hardy to the investigation."

Exhausted as she was, Ellie turned to her husband, to find him grinning breathlessly. She whooped and hugged him. It was the news neither of them thought they'd ever hear. Suddenly, she remembered the Super and Chief Super were in the room, and snapped off him, tugging her jacket down.

"Sorry, sir," she muttered, clearing her throat.

Elaine almost swallowed down a snort of humour. "I didn't see a thing," she announced. She extended her hand to Hardy and shook. "Get some sleep and come in fresh in the morning. Then you can get up to speed on where the case is."

"Yes, sir," he replied and followed Ellie out into the corridor. "Kids first, then dinner and then us-time," he listed.

Ellie gave out a squeak and glanced around them to see if anyone overheard. "Mind what you're saying. We're at work... Sir."

Hardy kept walking, and slowly smiled. Oh, this felt extra good.

**/=/=/=/=/**

Spending time with the kids as a family was his best time of day. It was extra special today, because their mum was home, as well. Tom had hugged her fiercely, Fred had bawled his eyes out in true toddler style and the twins had give her a round each of lovely hugs and wet slobbery kisses. Life couldn't get much better than this.

Except it could, Hardy thought pensively. The hours rolled by in beautiful calm, but it was bitter sweet. It wasn't perfect, because his other children aren't here. They could have been here to enjoy this hearty bliss, instead they were living in fear for their lives and Ben was fighting for his life in hospital.

Tom, as always, picked up on his dad's sudden melancholy. "Dad?"

"Yes, son?" Hardy replied. He marvelled at the ease at which he said it. In truth, Tom was no more his son than Daisy was Ellie's daughter. On the other hand - he glanced at her and knew what she was thinking on that score - Daisy would fit in perfectly into Ellie's psyche as a mother. She ached to heal so many hurts and he could tell she was already making plans. He just couldn't see a way for her to make them reality.

"Can't you bring Daisy home?"

Hardy turned his attention back to Tom, stunned by the question. "I'm going to work on that," he said with growing conviction. "I will do everything I can to bring Daisy home. I promise." He couldn't tell him about Ben just yet, but in his heart that flame had already become a burning desire.

Tom was confident that his dad could fix anything. He turned away, but then turned back. "What about Ben? Can I call him my new brother?"

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	45. Episode 6, Part 4

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Six, Part Four: Bittersweet Symphony<strong>

Ellie led Hardy into their bedroom. "Come on, you bully. You need to rest."

"And you don't?"

"I snatched a few hours here and there at the station while no one was looking," she admitted. "But you didn't. Coz I saw the lights on when I went passed the other night, you daft bugger. So don't lie to me. You've been awake as much as I have. Get undressed and get into bed. Or... do you need help finding the buttons?"

He shook his head even as he did not resist her searching fingers. In fact her efforts just made him amused more than anything. "I can't rest, though, Ellie. Too much to think about."

"Well, try thinking a little more softly. You're running on empty."

"I've been eating."

"I mean emotionally and mentally. You've had too much on your plate. And before you say it, my plate's not that full. I've had a team to delegate to. What have you had, stuck at hone?"

"I haven't minded the househusband role as much as I thought I would," he conceded.

Ellie stared at him, startled. "Don't go down that road. We can't afford it, and, two, I am not repeating history."

"I'm not Joe," he replied.

"Good, because after a while the novelty wears off, and you'd be itching to get back to work. I know you. These last few weeks have been a torment, so don't tell me otherwise." Ellie kissed him gently. "I'm just grateful you've already had the surgery. I can't lose you. Not then, not now, not ever."

He met her eyes. "Ellie, I haven't asked. I should have, and I didn't. I'm sorry. How has this been for you? I can't imagine what you went through having to think that I might have... been anything like Joe."

She blew a breath through her teeth. "My heart screamed at me the whole time that the evidence linking you was wrong, that I couldn't have been so cautious only to make another mistake in judgement. I felt sick every moment I had to imagine how you might have committed rape and murder. But you know me. I'm stubborn. I refused to let them derail me from looking at all the possibilities. You once said not to trust anyone, and I had to act on that."

"You did the right thing."

"Doesn't mean it didn't hurt to do it. I was so terrified that the next clue would drag you in deeper, and worried about what you were thinking about the position I was putting you in. We still haven't found Luiz Gotleib's clothes, Louise Dusk's epi-pen, or the shoes that made the footprints outside. It's bloody frustrating. And that night we argued in front of Tom kept going in circles in my head. It made me almost too afraid to come home, just in case I found you gone. Just in case you'd left me a note."

"I'm so sorry I ever thought about leaving. I was so hurt... I lashed out."

"Well, I did that to you when you were too weak to defend yourself, left without giving you a chance to explain. So... I suppose that makes us even."

"Doesn't mean I don't owe you an apology for being an arse."

She had to smirk. "This time or all times?"

Hardy scowled at her, but there was no force behind it. He finally cracked a smile. "You can be as much of a bully as I am when you want to be. Threatening your boss with a cup of piss?"

"I never actually did it," she defended.

"I don't doubt you would have if I'd given you reason."

"Who says you haven't?" she threw back.

He grinned and chuckled softly as his hands caressed her back.

Ellie lost her humour as she looked into his eyes. "I can't describe the relief I felt as it became clear that you couldn't have committed any of the murders. This last one we knew you were innocent of because you had a solid alibi from the start, but we needed the DNA and other evidence to come in before I could positively clear your name. I always held out hope that you would be exonerated and reinstated. My only worry now is how we make sure the town knows without breaking any of our rules about information release or giving more ammunition to parasites like Karen White."

"We're going to mention her here?"

"Sorry. Just checking that you're paying attention."

"Don't spoil the mood, please."

"I didn't know we had a mood to spoil."

"I've been trying to work one up," he pointed out. "We haven't been together since the night this all started. We haven't slept in the same bed unless we're both exhausted and here. I could count on one hand how many times that's happened in the past few weeks. I almost had hopes of something extra special happening tonight."

Ellie noted the exhaustion in his face, the weight that the worrying and the unknowns had left on him. "At least this time I don't have to worry about your heart."

/=/=/=/=/

They had been kissing for several minutes, just to calm his nerves at first. Then she went to work on his frustrations and his anger. She was clever. She knew all the right moves and when to use them. It seemed a bit incongruous to be making love in the middle of a murder investigation. But they needed time for each other. Outside work hours was their time.

The children were fast asleep, so now was the perfect opportunity to remind each other why they had said I do. Not that a month and a bit was long enough to forget, strictly speaking. He needed this time to reconnect with her. As Mark and Beth had said, and Paul. Mark and Beth had been through hell and had come through the other side. If they could do it, he was sure he could live with Ellie heading an investigation without him. Besides, how could he be jealous of someone he had trained to be like himself?

Not that he was thinking about that at this particular juncture. Not while she was teasing another juncture. She had impressive skills, did this Detective Sergeant. She was able to tear the most unmanly sounds out of him. On seconds thoughts, they were not even human. And to that, she could do that more than once.

He was already breathless and sweaty and trembling when she finally joined them. If he was honest, ever since the day they had met he had been imagining this. Even while he missed Tess and propositioned Becca and investigated Joe, he had wanted Ellie. He had never told her, but he had an inkling that she had guessed; she had run to him when Brian had asked her out. Big clue.

A mobile rang, right as they both got very close to finishing. They groaned, and he pushed away slowly, trying to not blow.

"That's yours, isn't it?"

Ellie reached out and grabbed the mobile from the bedside table. "Yeah," she growled. "This had better be vital, spoiling a good one." She pressed the button, without checking the caller ID. "Miller...? Oh good... Good to know... No, I'm at home. Been sent home to sleep... Yeah. I'll see you then... Bye." She clicked end call and almost slammed it into the tabletop. "Maggie. Good friend, lousy timing!"

Hardy rejoined them at once. "What did she say?"

"She's gone to Leatherhead to follow some leads."

Hardy frowned. "Leatherhead?"

"No idea. And right now I don't care."

She pulled him closer, returning to their pre-interruption state with haste and vigour. The fireworks were about to mutually explode when his phone on the bedside table suddenly sprang into life.

"Oh! For fuck sake!" He grabbed his mobile, pressed the button hard enough to shove it through the back cover, and roared into the mic. "Yess!"

The strangled note was not like his voice at all. Amorous anger, if there was such a thing, tended to do strange things to your vocal chords.

"No, it's... fine," he panted, shuffling off Ellie as he answered. "What's happened...? I knew it! I knew this was going to happen!" he shrieked.

Ellie quickly plucked the phone from his fingers, leaving him to punch a fist into the pillows. "Miller," she said into the phone. "No, we were - uhm - anyway. What's happened? A break in the case?"

DC Broome, the voice on the other end of the line, launched right into the reason behind her call. "We got a call from the Traders'. Daisy Hardy took a walk earlier and hasn't come back."

"What?!" Ellie nearly screamed into the phone, louder and more shrill than her husband had been.

Anna drew the phone a little away from her ear for a moment. "I've already ordered uniforms and SOCO there to check for any evidence of foul play. Her mother didn't even know she'd taken a walk until they got back from the hospital. Said she was supposed to be napping."

"When was her daughter last seen...?"

"Around 4pm."

Ellie glanced at the clock. 11pm. "And it's only now been rung in...?"

"Becca assumed Daisy had gone back to the hospital, but her parents have just arrived without her."

"I see." Ellie thought that was plausible, but give what they knew about Bruce Stratton... her heart was sinking.

"I'm really sorry to call you back in," Anna continued. "But Super wants everyone recalled to stop another potential crime. She's asked me to tell you that Hardy is needed back here to play catch-up and to have you go straight to the Traiders'. ardy is needed here to play catch=up and you Really sorry."

"No, I'll be right there."

"Meet you in five minutes?"

"A bit difficult, since it'll take that long for my sister to wake up and another ten minutes to get here."

"How long will you be?"

"Give me twenty minutes. I'll be as quick as we can."

"See you there."

"Bye." She ended the call. "Super wants us both in. Better get showered and dressed. I'll call Lucy. Oh, she is not going to like this."

"What did Anna say? Is Daisy all right?"

"No one knows. She went for a walk and didn't come back." She paused, taking a breath to be able to tell him. "She could have been gone since 4pm, but no one noticed until now. Seven bloody hours and no one noticed!"

Hardy had never turned paler in his life. He screamed into the pillow.

Ellie rounded the bed. "Listen, darling," she coaxed. "You're not going to help anything or anyone if you don't pull yourself together."

"Daisy is missing! I knew this would happen! And what are we doing? Having sex-"

"Alec!" she snapped. "You're doing her no favours by panicking. Shower. Dressed. Now."

"She could be dead!"

"At this point in time, she's not. All right? What do you always tell me?"

"Shut it off," he recalled. He was on the verge of tears, already panicked. How the hell could he shut it off? Now, he understood what it was like for them out there, the normal people. Now he knew what it had been like for Ellie seeing her best friend's son lying on the beach. He took a deep breath, mentally pulled out his policeman's handbook and flicked through its time-honoured pages. He had memorised every page, every word and supplicated it like Canon. His eyes sought hers in the darkness, now more than ever needing her as his anchor. "Our places are reversed this time," he noted. "And this time it's more personal. She's my daughter." He sobbed quietly and the tears escaped. "I can't lose her, Ellie. Not now!"

"We'll find her," she promised him. She couldn't speak the second sentence. It would have sounded glib and would be a promise too far. "We'll find her," she repeated. She watched him nod and get up. Once he was out of the room and she could hear the water in the bathroom, she dialled her sister. It took an age for Lucy to answer. "Lucy, I'm really sorry, but something's come up... No, Alec's daughter's gone missing... Yeah, he's in a right state, but they want us down at the station... could you? You're a love... Yeah, see you in a minute..."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	46. Episode 6, Part 5

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Six. Part Five: In The Dark<strong>

Ellie dropped Hardy off at the station. He needed something to do, which thankfully the Super had supplied, and Lucy was at the house watching the kids. Besides, now that he had been cleared for duty, he could use the time to come up to speed on the case. Maybe he might spot some gaps in their investigation, or some additional piece of evidence that they had so far overlooked. Anything would help at this point. But she wished she could see his face when he reached the same horrible conclusion that had been nagging her for the past few days.

She pulled into the Traders' car park and parked as quickly as she could. She wanted answers, and needed some to send to a certain frantic father. Hurrying inside, she found the place practically deserted, save for a few uniforms staying out of the way of the forensics officers looking around and walking through. Ellie spotted Tess and Bruce sitting in one of the alcoves, with DC Broome and DC Frank Williams taking their statements.

"When was the last time you saw your daughter?" asked Broome.

Tess was leaning her arms on her legs, staring at some spot on the wall to her left. "She got tired again around 3:30. Walking is the only exercise she gets and she needs to be more active given the weight gain, so I let her. She was supposed to come straight to here."

"Why was she so tired?" Frank wondered.

"She has Crohn's Disease and it gives her a lot of pain."

Bruce shrugged. "Sounded like her monthly hit her like a speeding lorry. I'm not comfortable talking about such things."

"You never like talking about anything when it comes to the kids!" Tess scoffed, but there was little force behind it. She turned back to the officers. "Daisy gets very tired sometimes because of her illness. It makes her bloat when she's stressed. She's been worried about her brother. She's probably exhausted herself. Maybe she sat down somewhere and got lost. Maybe she just needs to be found," she hoped, suddenly genuinely upset.

Broome frowned. "When was the last time your daughter's been to a doctor?"

Tess stilled, and grimaced. "I don't remember right now. For god's sake, what does that have to do with this?" She took a breath. "Sorry. Look. I know how these things work. I've done missing person searches myself. But they don't train you on how to react when it's your child that's missing."

Bruce tossed a narrow gaze at her, but dropped it before she could sense the additional eyes on her.

"Can I help the search?" Tess wondered. "I really need to be doing something, and I don't know what."

Anna reached out and covered one of Tess's hands with hers in comfort. "Right now, your job is to let us do ours," she said. "It's not that we're not grateful, but we know the area."

"Forensics will need to search your room for clues, just in case there was foul play," Frank added.

"Yeah, of course," Tess allowed and didn't see Bruce's face turn pale. "Just find her, please? Don't let that sicko get her. I want my daughter back."

Ellie filed her response away in her mind. That seemed to imply that Tess had no clue who had killed the girls. That was interesting. She decided they were not likely to get much more out of the pair, so she approached with a suggestion. "Maybe you can go somewhere, just for tonight?"

Tess looked like she wished she could stay here, but knew that her hotel room was going to be turned upside down in a matter of minutes finally nodded. "My son is in hospital. I can sit with him," she supposed, on the verge of tears.

"I'll have a car take you up," Ellie offered and waited for Tess to nod. Poor woman was shaking and upset. For all she knew or suspected Tess had done, she knew genuine emotions when she saw them. And right not, Tess was a mother facing the loss of her child. In fact, both of them. And Bruce; he was the silent glare. Nothing had changed there.

Ellie spoke to one of the waiting uniforms to take Tess and Bruce to the hospital.

"Yes, sir," the uniform sergeant, Andrew Scott, replied.

"Have someone stay with them. Don't let them out of your sight or leave them alone with their son," she reminded him.

Sergeant Scott nodded. "SOCO asked that you go up as soon as you got here."

She then went towards the stairs. SOCO were going in the direction of Tess' room, and she did the same.

She let the forensics officer at the foot of the stairs help her cover her shoes before hurrying up the upstairs, leaving the downstairs business in capable hands.

SOCO Brian Young was standing in the middle of the bedroom, photographing the prints of shoes coming in and going from the room. Ellie looked at the numbers and noticed that the presumed scene of Luiz Gotlieb's abduction was right next door. The leak that Becca had mentioned that went through more than one room had long since been cleared up.

With Young's team focused with their tasks she paused by the door and took in the suspected crime scene.

She gazed around the room, her mind filled with trying to imagine what had happened to Daisy. But instead her mind could only bring up possible scenarios for Luiz' abduction. She wondered how no one had overheard. She knew that the walls were not the thickest, but even a gagged girl should have made enough noise that someone would have said something. A gagged girl, would have been conspicuous, since the pub was open for business.

Or were people less likely to come forward than she had thought? How could a girl be dragged from a first floor room, down the stairs and through the lobby and across a well-used car park and not be noticed?

/=/=/=/=/

In the dark, Daisy Hardy hurried along the side paths, letting the moonlight guide her. She did not dare use her phone's lighting.

She sucked in a breath. Was it still on? She looked down and nearly let out a curse she had once heard her dad use when he had not known she was awake. It was still on and GPS was too! She put her finger on it to power it off, but then hesitated.

Her mother couldn't be trusted. She didn't trust Bruce. But Ben was in the hospital, safe. Did she risk making a phone call? Should she try running to the hospital instead?

She stumbled and had to lean against a tree. She took several breaths to recover from the dizzy spell. But it consumed her, making her sink to the ground to avoid passing out. So much had happened. So many unexpected things. Had she done the right thing?

"Miss?"

She gasped. She hadn't noticed the lights from the approaching vehicle, nor heard its engine. But she heard the door open and boots crunch into the gravel. She flinched, expecting to be attacked.

Nigel Carter stepped around the vehicle, now recognisable as a blue van, and came closer. "Do you need help?" He wondered why she hadn't answered. Please, God, don't let me find her dead," he prayed aloud. He went for a torch from the cab and flicked it on. He stilled when the light lit her face. "Oh my god. Are you Daisy Hardy?! What are you doing out here? You look pale!"

She could not find the words to answer. She felt so ill. She recognised him as the man who had been with Chloe Latimer's dad, the night Ben had collapsed.

"Has someone hurt you?" he asked. He saw her shake her head and almost fainted in relief. But she was obviously very unwell. "Come on! You need to go to hospital."

She shook her head. "No, don't know who to trust," she voiced weakly.

Nigel didn't even hear her as he opened the passenger door and returned to scoop her into his arms. She would be warmer in there as he called for an ambulance. Only when he got out his mobile, he found the battery spent.

"Hold on," he told the girl, pulled the seat belt around her. She was practically out of it. "It's not far. I'll get you there."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	47. Episode 6, Part 6

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Six, Part Six: Frantic Manhunt<strong>

"There you are."

Ellie's head snapped to the front to the sound of Young's voice. She didn't see the point of telling him she had been standing there for nearly ten minutes before he'd noticed her. "What do you have?"

He waved her inside, and led her to the room from where Daisy had been sleeping. It was a single bed by the window, with a single pillow, a handmade cushion baring the legend 'Daughter of a hero' and a blue plushie dog wearing a tag that said '4 Today' in worn lettering. The double bed had no augmentation at all, so it was obvious both children were sharing the single bed.

It was evident from looking at the bed that she had been solely responsible for her brother until he was hospitalised. Ben's small suitcase lay next to a medium sized one, both tucked under the bed. On the bed itself, several items of clothing had been left along with prizes from a visit to the arcades. With them lay two unopened bags of candyfloss. It looked like Daisy had not picked up or put anything away since the day of Ben's first heart attack, even though she had been back here several times since. That level of devotion reminded her of Tom, only worse. But one other thing was noticeable and very alarming.

"Why am I not seeing any sign of foul play?"

"Because there isn't any," Brian announced. "The door has been forced, so there was a break-in. But there's no sign of a struggle or of anything being disturbed. There are two sets of foot prints overlaying the debris from the broken doorframe, one approximately size 6 and the other much larger, possibly men's work boots, judging by the design of the sole. If someone did intent to rob the family, it didn't happen."

"Do you think Daisy got scared and ran off?"

Brian looked dubious. "What's missing is the stride indicative of someone running from the scene. There's nothing to indicate that. All I'm seeing is small steps. Daisy is not here, but she didn't run from the room. She went willingly. There are no clothes or valuables missing. And the suitcases haven't been disturbed."

"No sign of a mobile?"

"Not yet, but if the mother took it off her, then Daisy wouldn't have been able to call for help if there _was_ an attack. Tess Hardy may have it in her bag."

"I'll call tech and see if they can trace it. I'm hoping Daisy has it on her and, if so, that she left it on."

"There is one thing that I need your opinion on?"

Ellie was confused by that. "You're the forensics expert."

"But you're a woman, so you would know more about this than I would." He moved into the en-suit bathroom and indicated to the several nappy bags in the sanitary disposal unit standing in the corner. He opened the lid to lifted out one of the bags. The contents were clearly not nappies, but rolled up feminine pads. Ellie frowned until he opened the bag.

Inside were at least half a dozen feminine pads. And the other bags were identical. All of the pads were soaked through.

Young looked up at Ellie. "I've lived with a woman while she was on her monthly and I don't remember her ever having anything like this. These all look pretty fresh. Is that within normal range?"

Ellie's eyes were wide. "From my experience no. But I could say I'm one of the lucky ones. I'd say either Tess Hardy or Daisy Hardy has endometriosis."

"What's that?"

"Hell," Ellie replied simply. "Or there's another possibility..."

Brian waited, seeing her face lose colour.

Ellie couldn't find the words. She grabbed her mobile from her pocket and dialled the station.

Jenkinson was at her desk, pulling out instructions and gathering information so it was handy, when the phone rang. She grabbed it without checking the ID. "Chief Super Jenkinson."

"It's Miller, sir. I need a trace on the mobile Hardy gave to Daisy."

"She's not a suspect."

"I appreciate that, but this is urgent. She may be injured."

Jenkinson stilled. "Is there evidence of foul play?"

"Not specifically. She might have merely gone for a walk, but it's not clear where she went. I can confirm that the room was broken into."

"Then what's the evidence she's injured? Blood splatter?"

" No, sir. Injured as in sanitary towels... There's at least forty to sixty of them, all fresh... It's an instinct as a woman. Something's not adding up."

Jenkinson could barely find the words to say it but this was not a good sign. "When did this happen?"

"Before she left. SOCO has confirmed her footprints and those of a tall adult, possibly male, left with her... He is...? That's good. It'll keep him occupied... Will do... Bye." She ended the called. "The Super said to gather as much as you can and return to the station. We're downgrading this scene as a simple break-in and splitting off for a search operation."

"How is he?"

Ellie knew who he was talking about. "A mess when I left him at the station. The Chief Super says he's at the whiteboard, talking with Daniels about the timeline we're working on. Daniels is doing everything he can find to keep Hardy busy."

/=/=/=/

Hardy, as worried as he as he was, was impressed.

The notes he had been shown, the whiteboard organisation, the investigation routes, the utilizing of the information so far uncovered by Maggie Ratcliffe and Olly Stevens out in Sandbrook; the maths skills engaged to compare distances, speed, and travel times: this investigation had been run more smoothly than the Latimer case had been.

He might have worried that he would be faced with chaos, or that they had cracked it all and sent it to the CPS without him. Except he could see his influence on the case even without his working presence and that the investigation, although nearing completion, was far from ready to be sent on.

The team had been thorough. They had been asking all sorts of questions, including the ones that pondered his own possible involvement. It looked like asking those questions had led to uncovering important clues and eliminating additional suspects, some that even he hadn't even considered.

"This may be the best detective work I've ever seen in a team. Is there anyone who hasn't been involved?" he asked Daniels.

"Except you," he said as gently as possible, knowing it was a sticking point. "In one way or another, every last detective and uniform has worked this case, one or two only in a support capacity when they had a spare moment to make calls or help question witnesses." Daniels paused a moment, and then pressed forward with his thought. "If I may say so, no one really believed that you were involved. Even if some of the officers don't quite like you we all respect you."

Hardy turned to regard him for a moment, letting that give him a distraction from his wildly running imagination. So, he still had some way to go before he was fully accepted. At least he had worked hard and succeeded in reaffirming Ellie's place on the team. That was more important to him than his own. "And how much of it was driven by no one wanting Miller to be married to the wrong man, for a second time?"

Daniels shrugged. Joe had been someone he had called friend, and the truth had left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was friendship to Mark and his own feelings as a father that had driven him to make it possible for Mark to speak with Joe without anyone knowing. If the DI had not been on medical leave and Ellie suspended he doubted he would have got away with it. "I think that drove us all to put in longer than normal hours. Just don't let Beth or Mark think we worked harder on these cases than on Danny's."

"They're not stupid. Three girls dead, all tourists? Resources have to remain high for longer. What about the support officers from Weymouth?"

"They didn't have the motivation we had, but they were more than willing to put in nearly as many hours to hunt for the killers. And to make Broadchurch safe again. Like the good old days when a small castle looked to a bigger one for a support. Chivalry is not as dead as it was thought to be."

Hardy refocused. "So... Sarah Wallace was not murdered by the same person who murdered Luiz Gotlieb, but the latter may have the same killer as Louise Dusk? And there are signs that it could have been murder and not just rape?"

"Yes. Second autopsy proved sexual aspects of the latter two cases are not found in the first. Sarah's killer had to be closer to Sarah's strength. She put up a tremendous fight. Shame it wasn't enough."

The door to the CID room opened. It was PC Emma Shrove, their resident night owl. She preferred the night shift, but something had upset her. "DI hardy? Sorry to disturb you, sir. But you have a visitor."

Hardy considered her tone. "Where?"

"I put him in Room One. He's insisting on speaking with you, said you'd want to hear what he has to say. I thought you'd rather this go straight to tape." She indicated the interview pack in her hand. Discs, sheets of paper, disposable pen.

That told him enough. He rubbed his eyes, but held back any complaint. He wondered who it could possibly be at this hour, and then hoped it wasn't Bruce Stratton. He dismissed that since he knew he was at the hotel. The only other man he could think of who wanted to talk to him was Steve Connelly. The man had been right about a number of things and could not have been involved. So... what could this possibly be about?

Moments later he entered the room with Daniels as his seconder, and he forced himself to not stop at the sight of Connelly. Or react beyond getting grimmer.

Connelly wanted to speak, but he held back. He had to let them start recording. He had been warned about that more than once. And he knew he had the look of someone who worried that they might be spending time in a jail cell. Again. He had been warned about that, too. He just hoped Hardy's new wife wasn't in the building. She really scared him witless. After his last encounter he had held his peace until he could do so no longer.

Hardy recorded the name, date and time and sat for a moment, regarding the man in front of him with a stony silence. He brought his hand back to clasp his other, and struggled to keep his breaths even. "The first time you came to see me, you insisted that my eldest daughter was in danger. The last time you came to see me, my wife and I found you loitering in the police car park, late at night. You were warned then not to approach me or my wife again or face arrest and charges of stalking and harassment and possibly hindering a police investigation. What made you decide to go against that warning and approach me a third time?"

He wanted to demand answers, but he had to act like a DI. The station needed him to, and he could not risk his job again. It would betray what he had taught Daisy, and what he was teaching his younger children.

Connelly immediately spoke. "She hasn't been abducted."

Hardy blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"She just ran away for safety," Connelly continued.

"What are you talking about?"

"Daisy, your daughter. Louise told me to tell her to get her out. The big man was coming for her tonight. She told me to go to Daisy and warn her. This was her last change."

Hardy could not find his voice.

It was up to Daniels to continue. "How do you know she ran away?"

"I had a vision," Connelly replied. "Louise said that if Daisy stayed at the hotel, harm would befall her. Louise was guiding me, like she was holding my hand, so I knew time was running out. There were three or four of them, all yammering at me to help Daisy."

Hardy observed him become more and more distressed. He had never put much stock in mediums, but it was obvious that this man believed what he was saying. "Name them."

"What?"

"Name the three or four."

Connelly choked on a breath. "I don't know them all. Pippa was there, and Louise Dusk. Helen Thatcher. Jessica Dicks. Ella Morris. Melissa Jakes. Kate Bryoni. Debbie Hickory," he reeled, as if listening to a voice no one else could hear. "And there was another girl called Sarah Mullen. She spoke to me. She said she had escaped the house with the pink door, but the big man had found her. He's hidden her under a patio and she can't get out. She said he was getting impatient with Goddy and was going to dispose of Daisy tonight or tomorrow night. So I went to the hotel. I got a screwdriver and wedged the door open. She was there, in bed, asleep. I told her she had to run, to find her friend. I told her Louise had sent me. I told her she had to go or something worse than what had happened to her friend might be coming her way."

"And she listened to you?"

"It took some convincing, but I'd been told of things about her. I told her that even her own mother had been lied to about who Ben's father is. I told her that her missing photo of her friends was found in the pocket of a dead girl, to make it look like she'd killed her."

"Which dead girl would that be?" Hardy asked.

"Sarah Wallace," Connelly replied. "She was dumped in your driveway. She's been talking to me, too. She says the woman who dragged her off was stronger than she looked. Sarah kicked her in the leg, left her limping and cussing like a sailor. She said she'd been put in the back of a silver Renault Espace. Registration. LC07EXT."

Hardy stiffened. He recognised that number place. He'd bought that car, had driven it practically every day for two years. Ben had almost been born in that car. Was Connelly suggesting that someone had been murdered in it? That car was still his. Technically. He felt sick.

"But it's more than that," Connelly continued. "Daisy and her friends saw something that day in the High Street in Sandbrook. And Louise said the big man wants them silenced."

"What's his name?" Hardy asked.

"They don't know. They only know his as The Boss."

Hardy's face hardened even further. That could not be known beyond a select few in the Sandbrook police, and himself, Ellie, and the Supers here in Broadchurch. Maybe SOCO Young knew, but he doubted it went any further than that. "Which friend did you tell Daisy to find?" he demanded.

Connolly frowned. "I've never seen her. Not in person. She's not one of the murdered tourist girls. She's alive, but she was cruelly hurt by people she had trusted. And she's here in Broadchurch, too. Came as much to protect Daisy as get away from the people who hurt her. Jessica said he was on his way down here."

Daniels frowned, but Hardy's eyes widened slightly. "Describe the girl who's still alive."

"She's about 5'7", sixteen years old, usually has blonde hair, but she'd dyed it black. Ice blue eyes. She was wearing one of Daisy's hooded tops."

Now Daniels blinked. He remembered a girl who looked like that coming in with Becca Fisher, looking very scared. He had not seen her since, but he remembered two people from Social Services coming in and talking to someone in protective custody. The girl had practically begged them for custody. She was seriously nervous, like she did not know whom she could trust. Was she connected to their case? Or was she only part of the latest Sandbrook mess? It was a loop he had been kept out of.

Hardy had little patience left, but he managed to keep it under reasonable regulation. "Is Daisy unharmed?"

Connolly frowned. "I'm... not sure. But although she's fled the danger I saw... there's another danger. And she only became aware of what caused it the other night. Her illness covered it, but her mother's actions permitted that."

"You're speaking in riddles, Mr. Connelly. "Give me a straight answer!"

Daniels wondered if Hardy would have the man arrested again. He looked ready to blow a gasket. Minutes later he took the man downstairs to the cells himself. Connelly went willingly enough until he stopped in his tracks as they reached Cell 6, apparently at random.

He paused there, rapped on the door and called out. "Hailey Bridgewater? Daisy's gone."

/=/=/=/=/

"Just let me go," Daisy countered. "I passed out, that's all. And I'm not talking about it you. Nothing personal, but you're a bloke!"

"I'll get a nurse, if that will make you feel more comfortable," the male doctor replied. "But you must stay put."

"My little brother is upstairs in the children's ward. I need to get back to him," Daisy insisted. She was off the bed before anything else could be said. She instantly sank to her knees, caught in the doctor's arms.

"You're losing blood," he noticed, looking at the red streaks on the sheet.

Daisy flushed red. "I get heavy periods. Now, do you mind?" she retorted in embarrassment. "It's none of your business!"

"Just... wait there. I'll get a nurse."

He rushed from the cubicle and just as Daisy thought she was fine to go, a nurse appeared. She was holding a feminine hygiene pack.

"Here. I think you might want these," the nurse said kindly. "Men. Who'd have 'em, eh?" she said kindly as Daisy got changed. "You can't live with 'em and you can't live without 'em."

Daisy didn't say anything as she quickly pulled the paper underpants and pad on.

"Do you always get heavy periods, love?"

"Yeah," Daisy managed. "Always have had. I was supposed to go into hospital for this operation, but my mum cancelled it the day before. Said she didn't have the time to take me." She shoved the ruined clothing, pad and all, into the yellow incinerator bin in the corner. "I feel fine now," she announced. "My mum usually gives me a bar of chocolate and a banana and I feel a lot better. My brother is upstairs. Can I go and see him, now?"

"Daisy, you passed out."

"I know, but I have Crohn's Disease. Sometimes it can be really painful."

"Do you have something to take for that?" the nurse asked.

"Yeah, my mum's got it in her bag. If I feel dizzy again I'll tell the nurse straight away," she promised.

Just a minute later the A&E doctor approved of her discharge and Daisy left for the children's ward. She felt exhausted and weak, but she couldn't let her brother go unprotected for any longer.

After she had gone, the nurse looked disapprovingly at the Doctor. "She's under eighteen. The rules say we should keep her here until her parents arrive."

"Allison," the doctor said gently. "She was reported missing twenty minutes ago. Police are already on their way. And besides, I checked. She really does have a brother upstairs."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	48. Episode 6, Part 7

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post. And have tissues at hand here. Fair warning.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Six, Part Seven: Not So Innocent<strong>

Hardy swallowed as he put on the gloves. The letter was considered evidence until proven otherwise, so he had to avoid touching it. Like he hadn't already. Or like the bag it was now safely ensconced in would make any difference to where his prints went next. But as the intended recipient at least he was at least allowed to handle it read the contents. He knew he should at least be grateful for that small mercy.

It still felt like hell to have to be watched and listened in on. He felt like he was on trial, though he couldn't decide what he should feel guilty about or for. He had proven his innocence. Hadn't he?

Around him was seated the entire team. They had gathered uniforms and CID alike, ready for something big. After his interview with Connelly and his report to Elaine all hell seemed to break loose. And while they waited for the proverbial to hit the fan, SOCO had dropped his bombshell on the table in front of him.

"Read it aloud, if you will, Hardy?" Sandra instructed.

"It was not a question, but an order.

"If she tells us anything we need to know, the sooner we know the better."

Sighing, he sat down at the table, feeling the eyes of the entire team, uniform and CID, on him. Each of the pages had been unfolded with tweezers and bagged separately for ease of viewing. And SOCO stood nearby ready to take them back, like crown jewels, into their lair. Hardy hunched over them, like a hen desperate to hold on to her fresh clutch of eggs, and began to read.

"_Dad,_

_My hands are shaking. There's so much to tell you and I don't know how much time I have to do it. I can't even tell you where I'm hiding right now to right this because of that. Yes, I'm hiding in order to write to you. That's what my life is like now. And I want to get back to Ben before someone else does._

_You wanted to know what's happened since you left. After you came round on my birthday, Mum took my phone away. She told me you walked out on us, that you'd had an affair and didn't want me anymore. I protested in your defence, but she refused to listen. I was grounded and she told me to never write to you. Well, I tried to write to you anyway, but she began watching every note I wrote. I had to ask for paper for school, and she said no. I had to ask for paper at school and ended up in detention several times a week. The other kids used to make fun of me because of it._"

He lowered it a moment. "She did break the arrangement. I knew it!"

Ellie got him back on track. "Let's hear the rest, Sir."

He gulped, now very worried about what he would learn.

"_Bruce moved in almost immediately after you left. At first I didn't know what to make of him, but I thought that if he was supposed to be Ben's dad he was awfully distant. I mentioned once that I thought he looked more like you and nothing like Bruce and Mum shouted at me, slapped me and told me never to mention you again. He said something about a DNA test proving you weren't Ben's dad. I had to ask a teacher at school what it meant. I didn't want to believe that someone so sweet as Ben could come from someone so nasty as Bruce. You taught me that anything is possible, but something felt wrong about what Mum claimed about Ben._

"_I tried to get help from my teachers, but they weren't interested. And Mum had excuses for my education, that I had appointments or I was unwell, anything to prevent me from telling anyone what was going on. I even went to the police station to try and talk to you, but the woman at the desk told me to leave, said the police station wasn't a visitor's centre. I overheard Mum telling Bruce that you'd moved away. She relaxed on her grip on me then, because she knew no one I could speak to knew where you were. I started reading newspapers and that's when I found out what had happened to Pippa and what they were accusing you of. Especially that woman, Karen White. I didn't believe what she said about you. You're a good policemen. I thought something else must have happened, but I didn't know what._"

Hardy exhaled and shook his head. "I should've never taken the blame. I should've trusted that Daisy could face the truth. Anything would be better than this." He felt increasingly heavy in his chair as he continued:

"_Ben never trusted Bruce. There's this vibe about him that just isn't dad material. He soon proved he has a temper, but he limited it to bullying us at first. And then he's lash out when Mum was out. I started making sure Ben was never alone with him. And over time I was doing everything in the house, while Mum did practically nothing. I tried talking to Mum about him, but she called me a liar. Bruce has a sterling reputation, apparently, and she didn't believe me. I felt like no one believed me when I said anything. And if I said anything outside the house about it, Mum always found out. She locked me in the shed as punishment once and didn't let me out until gone midnight. I had a doctor's appointment the following morning, but Mum cancelled it. I tried to Granny Nutkins that I wasn't happy and told her and Granddad about Bruce, but no one believed me. They thought I was just missing you or going through puberty or just jealous that my mum had found someone new. It's like adults won't even bother listening to kids anymore, unless forced to._

_It was about four years ago when Godfrey Ghosh first came round to our house. His real name is Godavari, or something, but he Anglicised it so he could fit in better. I was really lonely and barely got to see my friends, and only got letters out to pen pals if Mum saw them first; she even had me rewrite some of them to leave stuff out, and even then I don't know how many were posted. I don't think I'll ever know now that Louise has died. I didn't have any friends at school, so when Godfrey asked me out I said yes. He's twice my age, but I thought any attention was better than no attention._"

"Oh, god," Ellie muttered, a sinking feeling about what was coming next.

Alec was now shaking as he continued to read.

"_It took a little while before he asked me to join him at places I'd never been to, and even do things I never did before. I didn't want to do it, because I didn't know the people and some of what they were doing was legal! I tried to dodge him, but he kept pushing me into it. I mentioned it to Mum, who shrugged and said Godfrey was a good bloke and said a girl my age should go out with friends. I was fifteen by that point. She even encouraged me to get out more. But I kept trying to hold back._

"_Then one day last year Godfrey came over, and I heard Ben cry out. I found him on the ground, crying. Godfrey claimed he tripped, but I knew he hadn't. Ben was walking well by then. I even accused Godfrey of pushing Ben over, because I could tell from looking at Ben's eyes that he didn't fall on his own. Bruce had been telling Ben that he was clumsy for a while, but it must be why Mum didn't believe me when I said Godfrey did it. Godfrey told me that if I didn't do as he said, Bruce would hurt Ben. So, to protect Ben I had to go along with what he asked._"

Alec let out a growl and slammed the paper down.

Ellie was at his side. "Sir, do you need someone to finish reading it?"

He shook his head. "No!" He wiped a hand down his face, knowing he wasn't the only one in the room squirming. The difference was, they knew what Hailey had revealed in her interview. He didn't. "I'll learn it eventually. Better now than later."

He soldiered on.

"_So that's why I have an arrest for shoplifting. You probably know about it already. Policemen talk to each other and it's all national databases these days, isn't it? I admit I didn't make much of an effort to hide what I was doing. I was hoping that someone would catch on to what was going on, but Mum seemed to make it go away – except for my record. I don't know if Mum is manipulating Bruce of if she's the one being manipulated, but she only gave me a lecture on why I shouldn't steal and that was it. She said I was lucky the shop didn't was to press charges. And no one said anything about it after that._

"_It was merely a reprieve, though. Godfrey tried to force me into going to a party at this friend's house for my sixteenth birthday. But I had heard stories of girls disappearing, and I saw stuff in the news about how it happened in other areas. I realised why he wanted me to go to the party, so I refused. I was suspicious that he was part of a grooming ring that he had been priming me. I think that's what they call it. Godfrey always had loads of girls around him whenever we went out. I didn't like it, but he told me to get used to it. He said I had to share him. So, anyway, I refused to go. This was a few months ago, my last birthday. Ben's injuries increased their frequency, and Godfrey told me that if I didn't do what he said, Bruce would kill Ben._"

That produced choking sounds in more than one listener. Ellie's fists were clenched and she was now trembling. She wanted so much to hold her husband, but she knew that would not be allowed. He looked sickly, if anything. Alec was so pale his freckles stood out like sunspots. He could barely speak the rest.

"_Godfrey forced himself on me and had sex with me, even though I tried to fight him off. He told me to stop being so stupid and said it wouldn't have hurt if I'd just let him do it. He shouted at me, called me a whore and I went home. About a week later, he climbed up the back of the house and got in through my bedroom window. He told me he was sorry. He said he shouldn't have been so rough with me. He said he loved me and wanted me to go out with him again. He said there was a nice place he knew of, his boss' house. He said no one would mind if we went there for sex. I was meant to go there in June. I think the only thing that prevented me from going was that Auntie Jess was visiting. And right in the middle of dinner Mum suddenly announced that we were going on holiday to a place called Broadchurch. I saw Bruce's face. She hadn't even told him, and I heard them shouting that night. Mum was telling him that she was going on her own with just me and Ben. Bruce accused her of trying to leave him to go back to her ex, meaning you. He accused her of sleeping with you behind his back. I saw Bruce talking with Godfrey that following day. Godfrey backed off a bit and left me alone. I was so relieved that I didn't stop to wonder about it. Instead I focused on letting Louise and Hailey know where we could meet up. Mum seemed so pleased that our holidays were going to be in the same place. I did think it odd that we were going to a place I'd never heard of. But then I remembered Durdle's Door. I began to look forward to it. And then I found out during one of the many rows between Mum and Bruce, that you lived in Broadchurch. I began to hope you still did._

"_It seemed like a dream come true because two of my dearest friends wrote and let me know that they would be meeting me in Broadchurch. In fact, I knew about that several days before Mum. So I had hope that I could tell them what was happening and that I could find a way to somehow speak to you._

"_Dad, I'm scared. I'm afraid that Bruce will hurt Ben really badly. Every time he gets angry, I'm scared he'll not stop at yelling at us. So I try my hardest to not leave Ben alone with him. If I know Mum's there I'm not quite so worried because I think he has to maintain appearances with her. I can only hope that she has some real love for Ben, because I don't think she loves me anymore. If she ever did. She only kept me because she knew it would hurt you, didn't she? It's the only thing that makes sense. I wish I could speak to you, that you could help me figure this all out. I need your help. Dad, I'm scared to go back to Sandbrook. If I have to go back I'm terrified that I'll be trapped in that house, too. I've heard rumours that there are as many as forty girls that have gone in there and never come out. Dad, Bruce owns that house. He has to know what goes on in there. Sometimes they're moved to another house on the far side of Mitcham Common, in Clay Lane, where Bruce's cousin used to live. That house is called Peterborough Lodge. It was done up as flats last year and it's also owned by Bruce._

_I'm praying I can get this into Chloe's hands tomorrow, and that she and her friends can get it to you. Chloe's been really nice. Her dad helped Ben the other night when Ben collapsed. It was terrifying and Chloe's dad was so calm and knew what to do. Even Mum panicked. Bruce just stood there shouting at Ben for making a scene. He says Ben only did it for the attention._

_Dad, I'm not angry that you remarried and adopted Ellie's kids. Chloe told me about her. She sounds really nice. I hope she's good to you. Gran always said my big heart comes from you, and I can believe her. I bet you wanted to be a dad again. Chloe says you're happy here and that makes me happy. She said Ellie even beat up her own husband when she found out he'd killed Chloe's brother. I wish Mum took even an ounce of interest in Ben. If Ellie's even half as cool as Chloe said I'd beg to live with you. Please, Dad. Get Ben and me out of here! I know that test was wrong. I know you're his dad; you just have to look at him to realise it. Love you, Dad. Daisy._"

Hardy let go of the note, numbly placing his hand on the table as he shook in rage and grief.

Brian from SOCO, his hands also gloved, took the note in its clear plastic evidence bags and whisked them away. Hardy barely even noticed.

"Mary, mother of god," Daniels muttered. Now his own earlier problems seemed a distant memory.

More than a few in the room were fighting their feelings on their DI's behalf.

"I failed her," Hardy whispered. "It's all my fault."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	49. Episode 6, Part 8

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Six, Part Eight: Waiting Room<strong>

"I failed them both," Hardy realised. "I could have done something!" He slammed both fists into the table, almost rattling it to pieces.

"Stop it," snapped Ellie, significantly gentler than her usual habit, while SOCO removed the letter for further study. "It's Tess's doing, and Bruce's, and this Godfrey. You didn't cause any of it."

"If I'd fought harder for her, if I hadn't insisted that Ben wasn't mine, they might be living here with me! Safe and out of reach of this predator and that brute!"

"Alec," Ellie spoke, cutting into his rant. "Fuck the rules," she grumbled and hugged her husband, and tacked a 'sir' on the end.

Neither Sandra or Elaine made any comment.

Elaine was the first to speak. "Is Ben going into care?"

Hardy shook his head and let go of Ellie, giving her arm a grateful squeeze. "The staff at the hospital already found unexplained injuries. They have been in contact with Children's Services. I spoke to Mrs. Henshaw. She told me that they had no grounds to remove Daisy or Ben from their mother, but would pass on my concerns to the local office in Sandbrook. I wish I'd had this note to show her; it might have gone differently. At the hospital, neither Tess nor Bruce Stratton have been permitted to be alone with either child."

Ellie had to voice her thought, but she whispered it. "Daisy mentioned Hailey, and Hailey mentioned Daisy had been a target, and now Connelly has listed several more girls. Don't grooming rings usually seduce the girls they lure in?"

Sandra sucked in a deep breath. "If this Godfrey and his cohorts have worked with the same pattern we have seen in other cases, I'm afraid it's a strong possibility."

They were not quiet enough to keep Hardy from overhearing, and he let out a cry.

Ellie knelt beside him and murmured into his ear for a long moment. Finally she turned it into real words. "We're going to find Daisy. There was no blood in her room other than on the sanitary pads. She got out of that room alive. If she was attacked, they didn't succeed. She'll turn up alive and we'll get her away from her dangerous situation. Sandbrook are on the verge of breaking that ring. The danger will end. You'll have you daughter back."

He choked as he clutched her back. "What if Social Services thinks I can't handle them? Money is already tight."

"They don't split families based on income. And you've got a record of being a great dad. Tess's word is the only thing against you, and hers has been shown to be full of lies. Maggie and Olly are on the way to proving that she was at fault at Sandbrook, not you. And then nothing will stand in the way. It's going to happen."

"If we get Daisy back alive," he sobbed. "If she's..." He couldn't finish the thought.

So she stayed put. He needed her. She would trust that their team would manage without them for a bit. They had to find something to help them.

Suddenly someone came in. "Sarge? You're not going to believe this. Nigel Carter drove up to the hospital. His passenger was Daisy Hardy."

Hardy gasped and bolted to upright sitting. "You sure?"

"Positive. She was in good health. They let her visit her brother."

"Did she look injured?"

"Aside from the cuts due to tripping up in the dark, no. But she was bleeding heavily, feminine bleeding. She was faint and dizzy, but otherwise she was fine."

Hardy burst to his feet.

"Wait!" cried Ellie, running after him. "You're not driving! I am! And someone release Connelly!" she added over her shoulder as an afterthought. Now that they knew where Daisy was there was no need to keep him locked up.

He did not make a motion of acknowledgement, but he did let her get behind the wheel. He knew enough to know that he would not be able to focus, and she knew the streets at night far better than he did. She also used the siren, she had never had the opportunity to since becoming CID - one of the perks not given to plain clothes - to ensure that they got there as fast as possible.

Even after being in the glove compartment for six years, it worked a dream. Not that there was much traffic to move out of the way at 1am.

/=/=/=/=/

"Brian, what did you find?" Elaine asked as people began to fetch coffee and gear up for the next phase.

"Several full prints, and an overlap of several others," Brian replied. "I'm waiting for the computer to separate them. One was DI Hardy's, one was Daisy Hardy's, in fact there are several of hers. I found one that I can't identify, but I also found one of a Maureen Harvey."

"Who's Maureen Harvey?"

"She's a nurse up at the hospital, Children's Ward. She had her car stolen last year and her prints were taken to eliminate her from the crime scene."

"And we still have her IDENT1?"

"Standard procedure to keep the records, indefinitely if needed," he explained. "Mrs. Harvey hasn't requested their removal. In fact, I recall her telling me to leave it in the PNC, just in case her ex got to her and we could only identify her by her fingerprints."

"Charming."

"So was he," Brian intoned. "He's serving life for aggravated assault and battery, along with attempted murder."

Elaine nodded. "Good point. So we can assume Daisy got these pieces of paper from the nurse to write the letter to her father."

"We can ask," he suggested. The screen came up with another match. "Got it. The fourth print belongs to Chloe Latimer. I think we've established provenance."

"Good work."

/=/=/=/=/

"Daisy!"

She looked up at the welcome sound. "Dad!"

They kept their voices quiet in the dimly lit ward. Ben had been moved to a room behind the nurse's station. Hardy pushed passed the two nurses on duty and clutched his daughter to him. "Thank god!"

She cried, returning the embrace just as tightly and breathing in the smells that she had almost forgotten how to describe. "Dad," she choked.

He barely drew back enough to look her in the eyes. "Daisy, were you attacked?"

She slowly shook her head. "This bloke broke into the hotel room and warned me to leave. He said someone was coming to hurt me. I told him I could look after myself. If anyone tried anything, they wouldn't get very far. I'd knocked him out. I remembered those self-defence moves you taught me."

He found a small smile of relief and cupped her face in his hands. "Good girl. The man who broke in is in custody. But why are you fighting the staff in A&E? You need to be examined."

"Dad, it's just my-"

She cut herself off as she moaned suddenly.

He eyed her carefully, watching her face turn increasingly grey. "Daisy? Whatever's wrong is a bit more serious than some simple disease. You know that."

"I'm fine, I'm just... tired... and needed to see Ben. I have to watch out for him. No one else will..."

And with that she passed out in her father's arms. Only his grip on her kept her from hitting the floor.

"Daisy!" he cried out. "God, no! Stay with me," he coaxed.

The nurses crowed in and gently pushed him out of the way. One of them hit the night alarm, turning a string of red lights flashing through the hospital and an alarm in the Crash unit in A&E. A doctor appeared within seconds and then another, and behind him came a porter with an empty trolley.

Hardy stood frozen to the spot hearing phrases he vaguely remembered from when he lay dying; low BP and bradycardia. But there were others; haemorrhaging and vascular crash. Daisy had internal bleeding? Suddenly his mind conjured an image of the body of Luiz Gotleib. And he could see blood begin to pool around Daisy's lower body.

He watched them lift his now lifeless daughter into the trolley and wheel her away. They had left the blood. A pool of it. Her blood. Her life. All over the floor. He suddenly felt faint. Stepping back against the wall, he sank into his special place, culled up like a foetus, where he was safe. His breaths sobbed ineffectually in and out of his mouth.

Without warning, Ellie was in his field of vision, asking him if he was ok, but the blood rushing in his ears was making it hard to hear her. After a moment, the darkness that had crowded in began to dissipate and the pounding in his ears lessened. The blood on the floor had been cleaned up and there was no sign of it.

Alec uncurled his arms a little as he stared at her with tears in his eyes. "Please," he whispered. "Please, don't let it be too late. I can't lose her. Not now."

No one answered him.

/=/=/=/=/

Chief Super Elaine Jenkinson was on the phone. She, Hardy and Ellie were all standing in her office. They were waiting for her to finish her call with her superiors, while Hardy was waiting for word on his daughter's condition. Secretly, he would rather they just left him at the hospital to wait no matter how long.

"We're good...? Thank you, sir. That's a relief to everyone concerned." She hung up and met Hardy's gaze. "DI, we're now officially clear to bring you back on the cases."

"Wait a minute. You told me this last night."

Elaine looked uncomfortable. "That was unofficially," she admitted. She paused for a moment, still holding his gaze. "The truth is that we cleared you several days ago."

Alec turned a glare on Ellie. "And why wasn't I told?!"

"Think about it, Alec. Whoever killed Sarah Wallace, Luiz Gotlieb and Louise Dusk went out of their way to make you look guilty, to tie these cases to your time in Sandbrook. I was concerned that if we let it out too soon that we knew you were innocent then the killer would either flee or we'd have another dead girl on our hands. So as much as I hated to do it, I recommended by then that you remain out of the loop so if the killer was watching your movements, there wouldn't be anything to suggest you knew you were no longer under suspicion. I'm sorry, but I believed it was the best choice."

He looked at her in pain for a long moment, but slowly let it go on a loud exhale. His lips tightened for a moment before he relaxed. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Not you fault. It's part of the reason I slept at my desk. I hate lying to you and I can't do it for long, because you're too bloody good. I felt like I was in an impossible situation and was dragging you further into it."

Jenkinson cleared her throat. "We're now hoping you might be able to piece together some information we haven't figured out the connections yet."

Alec shifted instantly into DI mode. "What do I need to know about the case? I'd only got half way through when the team was called in."

Ellie folded her arms. "The connection is the girls' friendship from years ago. It created an instant impression that you might be tied to the murders. But we're dealing with more than one killer."

"I thought that was obvious," Hardy spoke. "The cause of death was very different."

"It gets worse."

Hardy closed his eyes.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	50. Episode 6, Part 9

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Six. Part Nine: Broken Flowers<strong>

"Luiz Gotlieb has no ties to Sandbrook or any of the other girls. It's Louise Dusk who was in that photo."

Hardy rubbed his eyes. Another of his daughter's friends was dead. He dropped his hands with a heavy sigh. "She was the intended victim?"

"Luiz Gotlieb was mistaken for Louise Dusk. And something spooked her killer, which meant more forensic evidence was left behind. I sent Maggie and Olly up to investigate the links and speak in person with some witnesses. They've begun helping Children's Services here by linking their investigation with one at another office, because there are many links that had to be explored to make sure we didn't miss anything."

"So what do you need my help with?"

Ellie took one file from the three the Super had brought with her. She drew out a copy of a school year photograph from a secondary school in Sandbrook. "Do you know any of the girls in this photo?"

He took it and stared for a long time. "Wait... some of them look familiar. I think... Yes, these two were at the house a lot."

"Do you remember their names?"

"Um... Kate Bryony. I remember her because she was sick once and I had to go to the chemists for medicine because we couldn't get hold of her parents. And this one... Her first name was Rose sound, and her last name was something-way."

Ellie's eyes opened. "Rose Holloway?"

"Yes. That's it. They've been friends since their first day at Sandbrook Academy. I remember picking her up a few times with Daisy for tea. The last time I saw her, she and Daisy were planning a sleepover."

"What about the others?" asked Jenkinson.

Alec took another hard look. "I can't put names to faces, but... now I could swear that the names Connelly gave me were all part of Daisy's circle if not her year at school. I can't remember who was who."

Ellie paled. "Oh my god." She sat down. "Oh, this is worse than we thought."

He looked between his wife and the Super. "Is there something else I don't know?"

The Chief Super decided she had to be the one to break it to him. "In the course of Maggie Radcliffe and Olly Stevens' investigation, they found that every girl in that photo is missing. Talking with the Sandbrook police, they have uncovered evidence adding to that department's investigation of a suspected grooming ring."

Hardy's whole face widened and paled at the same time. "You're not saying that all of them have been targeted and taken by the ring, are you?"

Ellie took over. "They had no leads until Hailey turned up with two hundred and fifty mobile phones in her backpack, just whispers and suspicions. They thought they were looking for ten. But now that we have a witness, hopefully two, who can testify against the ring. Daisy, somehow, remained outside the ring. Hailey escaped and made her way to Broadchurch, but she was terrified to remain here."

"She's been placed somewhere safe?" Hardy asked.

"Officially, she's been placed with a foster family outside Weymouth. The only person in Broadchurch who knows where she is, is Connelly, and he's safely locked up in a cell to protect her until Sandbrook have made their arrests."

"Why doesn't she feel safe even here?"

"She came to find Daisy, to make sure she was safe. But someone followed her. A man named Godavari Ghosh."

"How did he know where she was?"

"We're guessing, but we think Bruce told him where Daisy was and that she was meeting Hailey in Broadchurch. Worse, we and Sandbrook are looking for him."

"And Tess doesn't know what's going on?"

"It seems it not just the children she ignores. Bruce Stratton is not just a geneticist. He owns properties across the Croydon area. And your eldest has had to learn to sneak around. Her circle of friends has become smaller and smaller since you left. She's been isolated, and practically all of the missing girls have some link to her. It's a huge nightmare."

"_How_ has this not made the papers?"

"Just be glad it hasn't. Grooming rings are notoriously difficult to crack. You have to get them all at the same time. We're just waiting for the transport police to notify us the minute they have positively identified Mr. Ghosh. One of your former subordinates at Sandbrook, DI Victor Salt. Know him?"

Hardy was less than impressed. "Oh, yes. I know him. He was the other man my wife was having an affair with."

"Oh. Well, he's now in charge there and he has been successfully keeping a lid on everything, but he suspects Tess has been feeding information to Stratton, hence, as Hailey mentioned, why some of the girls were moved. He's still unsure if Tess is acting deliberately or if it's unintentional. They've been keeping it quiet and convincing the parents to not speak with the Press because they suspect links to the ring reach out beyond what we already know. He wants to break it completely, and then use the Press to spread the knowledge of how to protect children from other rings. Oh, and Tess went up against him for DI. He got it because their superiors thought he was the better leader and investigator**.**"

Hardy could only imagine how angry that had made his ex. "Any word on how close they are to cracking it?"

"This is where it gets even worse. Hailey's mum was the auctioneer who sold the house. She was there the day it was bought, cash-in-hand. She saw the man who bought it. Her memory of him still haunts her. Maggie and Olly are checking ownership records for any others that we don't yet know about."

"Who is he?"

"It's Bruce Stratton."

Hardy was dead silent for a long minute. "My ex has allowed a grooming ring leader near our daughter?! She thinks he's Ben's father?!" He stood suddenly and paced. "He's the person who meddled with my paternity test. Isn't he? And my ex-wife... Oh god. She killed Sarah... to frame me. She knows the police and SOCO inside out. She's had us running around in circles. And she still has the car that Connelly spoke of." He looked right into Ellie's eyes. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Ellie was silent, which spoke volumes.

Jenkinson added, "It gets even worse. One of the paternity tests he ran in the past months was challenged by the father. A second test proved he was the father. Stratton didn't hear about it because the higher ups decided to take a look at his workafter his results had fatal consequences for several patients at the nearby hospital. But it's the paternity tests that were the first clue, several of which were needed as evidence in rape and assault cases. So far they've found seventy-five tests that need to be rechecked. The DNA didn't just not match parent with child. They'll all the same. And we're assuming it came from him."

"He's been at Sandbrook Labs for at least seven years," Ellie said. "The DNA pattern he was using to substituted first appeared two years before Sandbrook, so we have a timeline."

"Why hasn't he been arrested?"

"Tampering with genetic testing is one thing, but the grooming ring takes precedence. Sandbrook Labs has agreed to continue their work and wait until after the ring has been arrested before going public. Also, they've identified the person responsible for the theft from your car that lost you the Sandbrook case."

Hardy looked up in hope. "They've matched the fingerprints?"

"To one of the suspected groomers. You've heard his name before."

That made him sit down. "GodavariGhosh."

Ellie nodded. "And they looked into Trevor Medley's finances again. There are ties between him and Stratton going back at least seven years in cash deposits and withdrawals that can't be easily explained."

"Money laundering," Hardy interjected flatly.

"To start," Ellie partially agreed. "According to Maggie they go back much further, to when they were kids. I have no doubt he told his old friend to find a way to lose the evidence he knew the police would find."

Hardy covered his face and rubbed it roughly. He finally looked up after a long moment of mental shouting. "Do you think if I'd not kept the truth quiet this might have been prevented?"

Ellie took a deep breath. She knew this question was coming. "I wish I knew. Maybe it would have alarmed Stratton enough to make a mistake a lot sooner. Something had to break in order to make a link, and for the Sandbrook police it was the missing girls. But... I did notice that they were all linked in one way or another to Daisy. It looks like Bruce has been deliberately isolating her by removing her friends one at a time, and it could be argued that he had an affair with your wife and deliberately tampered with Ben's paternity test to get you out of the picture. He needed a police woman, an insider, to feed him information. He's been whitewashing Tess as much as she has you. Starting with the ones whose families were having trouble and creating excuses for their disappearance so he could to stop them from noticing that their girls were in danger."

Hardy swallowed hard. "Daisy was targeted, was she? I've known him since she was seven years old. Why did they wait so long?"

"I think he might have been thinking about how to help Tess make things difficult for you. Maybe making her suffer was a proxy for actively making you suffer. I don't know. But I suppose something changed around the time Ghosh started coming around. Maybe Bruce was getting sick of Daisy getting in the way of manipulating Ben. Maybe he felt Tess would be better off without her, but had to do it in a way that she wouldn't suspect him of being involved in. She might have figured out enough to have him arrested. Or maybe he just wanted to get the last remnants of you - that the public know about - out of his life. He had Gosh work on her."

Hardy was never this close to knowing what Ellie felt when he told her about Joe. His stomach finally lost it and he had to turn to the side to avoid any risk hitting either of them. But he retched dryly, several times, somehow keeping down what was left of his evening meal from hours before.

Ellie went to him to touch his shoulder. Their roles were reversed. Now he knew how far his ex had sunk, that she had taken her bitterness so far that she had not checked who she was letting into her life or near her children. She had done so much to make Alec's life and health awful. But there was one big difference. Alec would not hit Tess, which was just as well, because they still needed her to talk.

He slowly recovered enough to just lean against the wall. "Ellie?"

"Yes?"

"Is there any way to find out how much Tess actually knows about Bruce Stratton? Or when she knew it?"

Neither Ellie nor Elaine had an answer for him.

**ĐĐ**

**End of episode**


	51. Episode 7, Part 1

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement:** September 22 2013

**Date of completion:** December 24 2014

**Series:** Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating:** M

**Authors:** tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary:** Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication:** Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning:** If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tardis:<strong> Count the adverts. It all started with me writing Life Without Joe (blowing my own trumpet). The title does not say why Joe was not there, whether he had died or walked out. It was just that he was no long there. No clue, no hint, no spoiler, no Joe. And just in case anyone else caught on before I did – episode four – that it was Joe I had to watch from a play back site because I was first burying my mum and then moving, so I actually missed episodes 2-7 until just days before the finale. My deepest thanks to bas_math_girl who saved me from being "spoilered". And, sorry, tkel, but it was not the BBC. It was ITV that made and broadcast the original. The BBC can only wish.

I got this idea after watching the original for the however-many time it was. I'd gone out to HMV to find a copy of The Politician's Wife and on the off-chance asked them if they had a copy of Broadchruch. As it happened the delivery had just arrived. I had the first copy out of the box at HMV Cardiff. There. Selfless advertising. And the Beeb still loses out. So I sat and watched it and thought I wonder what happens next? I've lived in hotels. I've been in a similar situation as Tom (and Ellie, actually, but that's neither here nor there), and I know there had to be more. Life would not have been cosy for Ellie.

So I wrote it.

LWJ was the result. And my readers liked it. Tkel refused to read it. And I fully understand and support her reasons.

However, within days of finishing and posting it I got another idea. I sat on it for months while tkel waited for the DVD, and by that time the plot bunny had stewed itself into a balrog (another plug, this one's LOTR). Tkel was busy. I was in Preston for the long awaited arrival of my first 'born in Britain'; grandchild. I have been busy looking after him and my daughter and fighting for justice for my son-in-law that the Balrog sat forgotten in a dark room on my data pen for a year. Date of starting: September 22 2013. I had a brief outline and a few notes. I basically picked at it for a year until both tkel and I were ready to put in the time and effort.

November 1 2014. One month turned into three weeks, and over 285400 words later we had a first draft. Chris Chibnall may own the copyrights and I bet his sequel is brilliant, **LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILERED!** but he doesn't have a murder. Read it and weep, Chris, my friend. Mine does. *Taggart voice* There's been a murder!

This has been a phenomenal achievement for both of us. Neither of us has done anything like this before. Working with a co-writer is not recommended for everyone. It takes a lot of patience, stamina – I had to sprint to keep up – and a strong willingness to share. I hate sharing. :D

This is going to hurt. Have tissues at the ready. I don't pull punches. Those who know my work know I have plot twists and unexpected clues, and if you miss them you'll be left behind. Make notes. You'll need them.

This is based on Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch, and a few details from the novelisation by Erin Kelly (another shameless advert), with the addition of some aspects of LWJ. If you haven't seen Broadchurch, why are you reading this first? Go away and do so, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you haven't read the novel, don't worry. I have, and you can take or leave it. It has some minor flaws and mistakes, but it is a good read. You'll find my review on Goodreads (another shameless advert) website.

Tkel and I half thought about including our own map, since the blatant error in Erin's was the mistake you'd expect from a small child. Beth's and Ellie's houses are across a field and they can see each other's kitchens; it was mentioned in the original and in the book. So I'm scratching my head trying to work out why Erin's map put them practically back to back, separated by a row of houses.

But, anyway, advertisements aside (Did you count them? There are seven.), I hope you like Sins Of The Father. We've kept it in the same style as the original eight episode format, but each one will have a different number of chapters. Hopefully, they will all be posted by the time ITV airs the sequel. Though try not to compare. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tkel:<strong> Being an American with not a lot of time on her hands to learn the tricks for getting things early from the other side of the pond, I had to wait to see Broadchurch. So I had months of reading about how good it was and how amazing David Tennant's performance was. It was more than a bit frustrating, but I give the people on my friends list credit for not spoiling anything other than Hardy's having a medical condition and one other detail. During the wait I noticed my friend Moley post a Broadchurch fanfic. Well, I did not read it. I even made a point of trying to forget I even saw one was posted. Finally the series came to BBC America, although I did not know that about two hours worth of material was cut to make room for the commercials. I was pissed off when I heard that, and promptly decided that where productions with Tennant were concerned, I would buy Region 2 only. (I had learned that computers can be manipulated to act like an all regions playing DVD player, although as of when I wrote the original note I had not yet figured it out. Trust me, I will learn soon enough.)

I was in awe from the first episode. A great cast, a heartbreaking case, and I was trying to figure out who did it almost immediately. Some I figured were unlikely, or would not be the killer without more plot twists. By the end of Episode Seven, I had a sinking suspicion who the killer was. It did not help that my memory chose then to recall what it thought was the title of Moley's fic. But I waited until the final moments had aired, and was in a bit of emotional turmoil. (Which I think we were supposed to be.) At that point, I got on Live Journal and read all five posts of Moley's fic, pausing only to comment. I needed more time to digest it fully, but I had reread it about four times by the next evening.

The thing is, my muse is the type to get ideas at the drop of a hat sometimes. Sometimes no hat, as Moley has reminded me. (giggles) Often when I am trying to work on other things. Bonzina (what I call my Muse) instantly thought about what might happen afterward, thinking about the unresolved things still there from the original story. She had thought of a plot bunny that had me intrigued. So I emailed Moley with the idea, having no idea that it would prove to be the platform for an idea that had been languishing since Life Without Joe was finished, and we bounced it back and forth – like you do when you beta read each other's work. I don't think we'd emailed about it for more than a day before it transformed into a plot balrog. (For those of you who aren't Tolkien fans, that's a giant creature of shadow and flame, "a demon from the ancient world" to quote Gandalf from the movie version of "Fellowship". Practically impossible to get rid of, as the movie showed.) Basically, it wasn't going to leave either of us alone by then, so we agreed to work on it together as soon as we could both make the time for it. Meanwhile we bounced more ideas back and forth until we had our first outline ready.

Well, although we did a lot of preplanning, we didn't get to writing until I mentioned I was thinking about what to do for NaNoWriMo 2014. Moley noted about Broadchurch 2 being filmed, and we agreed that we should get our balrog finished and fully posted before the first episode airs on ITV. And I was also working on another mystery story at the same time. Only thing is, on that story I had trouble with the outline, and stalled on it in a big way learning why my writer friends gave me the advice they did the hard way as my muse was insistent on trying something different. So I got way ahead on my parts of the story, but I used it to figure out enough so I could resume writing the other story. Even though it may never see the light of day, depending on what I think of it in the end.

Of course, I was very busy. Moved to a new city, started a new job that now means I have a profession, and had to focus on settling in. But I had managed enough that I could do NaNo once again. Although I'm still stalled on that one other story, I know one of the things I need to do with it. I also wrote a few other things, including a Christmas present for another friend – on a dare from said friend. So my grand NaNoWriMo total for 2014? 124,977. Yes. That's correct. And yet someone else managed just over 150,000. You'd better believe I intend to beat that next year.

So that's my side of the story. There will be another Broadchurch collaboration, based off an idea I had from working on this story. Stay tuned about that one. Or maybe... more than one, given that Moley and I seem to be off in slightly different directions for that one. (grins) This was a fun project, and I hope that Moley and I find additional ones to work on together. Not counting the beta reading we already do, or the times when I was utterly stuck on a story and needed more than prodding but wholesale suggestions to get it moving again. (bigger grin)

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><p><em>Summertime. Outdoors. Four girls played together in a garden, giggling as small children do. No cares of the world touched them, or if they did they pretended they did not exist.<em>

_There was an undercurrent of sadness. They all knew they would part ways, but no one knew just when they would see each other again. But it was the birthday of one of them, and so they could forget about most troubles for the time being._

/=/=/=

_Another summer. The air was pleasant, but there was a hint of tension. Mostly in the adults watching._

_Three slightly older girls sat on a beech making a sandcastle. They shaped it in honour of the fourth who did not come, looking up at each sometimes in wonder of why they had not heard from their friend._

/=/=/=/

_Two young teenage girls walking together in a busy street, shopping. They tried to laugh, but the aura around them was oppressive. Especially on the taller one. A great weight was hanging on her shoulders, but the haunted look had purchase in the shorter one._

/=/=/=/=/

_Darkness surrounded the area. The moon's light barely shone through the clouds._

_A girl stepped into the light of an open window. She kept low, trying to be invisible. She glanced up at the moon, her face that of the shorter of the teenagers. But her formerly honey-blonde hair had been dyed black. Her face was pale even for the light out, and her whole being spoke of knowing a terror unspeakable._

_She looked and listened, closing the window before she repeated the listening. Then she fled into the shadows, as quietly as she could._

/=/=/=/

_Under the same moonlight and yet slightly different clouds angled overhead a sixteen year-old girl stood alone, partly in shadow, leaning against a brick-built bus shelter with the sound of the ocean not far away. It was the taller of the girls. Her long hair fell in waves about her shoulders and at her throat hung a locket that rested against her t-shirt. It was old, as old as she felt. She bore herself as one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, silhouetted against the light of an opening door behind her._

_In the distance the echoing cry of a newborn child broke the silence of the night._

/=/=/=/=/

**Episode Seven, Part One: Countdown**

Ellie watched her husband's anguished look worsen as he remained still for the longest time. She did not know what to do. She was having flashbacks to when he was carted off for surgery and when he had an attack and collapsed with Fred in his arms.

She knew the kind of hurt he was feeling. It was too much to handle as a lover. She could not, however, imagine how far it went when it was your own child's life at stake.

The phone on her desk rang. She picked it up. "Miller." She listened a moment, and straightened. "Let me go to another spot." She lowered the phone a second. "Alec, I'll be a moment. This might be important."

He did not react, so she sighed and let him be.

She put the call on hold and turned to Pete. "Get the DI back to the hospital, please. He'll probably feel better there than here." She saw Pete's nod and went to Hardy's office. She picked up the phone there and pressed hold again. "OK, what have you got for me?" she asked.

She took out a pad and pen and began scribbling feverishly for at least a minute. She made agreeable noises here and there, taking down details as she listened.

"Does my Super know about this...? So you came to me first...? I feel honoured, though I think that might be the wrong response... I'll pass it on... Time...? And you can absolutely guarantee that every known suspect will be arrested at the same time...? What about Ghosh...? Every station...? Good. I don't want him turning up at the wrong moment, or phoning a mate. None of us will get the prize... She's tucked up nicely, ready for when you get here... She's in hospital, in theatre. We're still waiting for news... Will do. We'll see you in a few hours... Thank you and good luck... Bye."

/=/=/=/=/

Emma Shrove carried the plate of food carefully down the stairs to the cells and smiled at the Duty Officer at the desk. "Dinner for 6," she said.

The Duty officer looked at him list. "We don't have a prisoner in 6," he said.

"She's not a prisoner. She's in protective custody," Emma explained patiently. "Did no one tell you?"

The Duty Officer blanched. "Just got on duty, might not have reached that memo yet," he mumbled. "How's it going upstairs?"

"Fine, I think. They're getting ready to synchronise with Sandbrook. But with DI Hardy's daughter in hospital. She'd had to have emergency surgery. And, they've only got an hour or so before the raid." She waited for the Duty Officer to unlock the gate and followed him towards the cell doors. "I think everyone's getting a bit stir-crazy to be honest. Like it's the lull before the storm and everyone just wants to get the storm over with. Poor DI's a mess though."

Inside the cell, Hailey heard every word. Daisy was in hospital? Daisy was having surgery? Suddenly she was fired up. She had been too late after all. Goddy had got to her friend. The second she heard the bolt slide back she thrust both hands against the door, smacking it against the Duty Officer's head, and barged right into the woman PC standing there.

She ran, straight for the fire escape at the far end, and was out almost before Emma hit the floor, unconscious. In the darkness she ran as fast as she could. Broadchurch was small, so finding the cottage hospital should have been easy. She took out her phone and did a search. It flipped up an address and a map and she was off.

/=/=/=/=/

Ellie returned to the CID room, filled as it was with officers psyching themselves up for the event to come. Some were silently ticking off the minutes, itching to get the order to go, while others held quiet conversations with their fellows in an attempt to stave off the usual nerves.

She knew what was coming, but still couldn't quite believe she was the officer-in-charge. She had pinched herself more than once. SOCO was downstairs. They had no interest in the raid yet. They would follow on behind as a second wave to the hotel. But first, they had to wait for Bruce and Tess to leave for the hospital. Timing was critical.

Ellie huffed a breath and wiped a hand over her mouth. She glanced at the Chief Super. "Sandbrook is ready, sir. They say one hour," she announced. "And Godavari has been apprehended at Weymouth railway station by Transport Police." She glanced at the windows. "Dawn. Good time for a raid, boys," she said.

The Chief Super gave her a supportive nod. She had been right to give the case to Ellie. And she had shone.

The phone on Anna's desk suddenly rang and she reached over to pick it up.

"Broome...? A what...?"

Elaine moved between the troops to Ellie's side. "How's Baby Enoch doing?" she asked. She made it sound conversational but there was that burning need to know. Mothers shared it, and even some fathers, she was sure. But for her the need was more personal.

"He's doing well, last I heard," Ellie replied. "Hardy was still working on trying to trace the mother. So far, no Asian women have owned up. He said they're either telling the truth or they're hiding it really well. I'm sure he'll keep you posted."

Elaine nodded, but said nothing more.

The door opened at that moment and Emma Shrove stepped in, holding an ice-pack from a first aid kit to her clearly blooded head.

"Sir?" she called out to Ellie. "Sorry to barge in, but Hailey got out."

Ellie sank into a horrified panic. "How?"

"I was taking her a cooked breakfast. Tully opened the door and she burst out of the cell. Knocked Tully and me out. She escaped through the fire exit. If it hadn't been for Robins, I think I'd still be down there."

"Oh god. She must have found out about Daisy," Ellie realised.

"I think that might have been my fault. Tully asked me how it was going. She must have overheard us talking."

Ellie felt like rebuking her, but there was no time. "Anna, we better get to the hospital. I have a feeling that's where she's heading."

"Something else has come up," Anna replied. "A bad tipping point has been crossed. Member of the public just phoned in saying there's a large mob of people heading up Flood Bank Road towards the hospital. They heard them shouting out for anyone to join them who want DI Hardy out. And Karen White is leading them."

"Oh shit!" Ellie muttered.

The entire team looked at her. They needed her to co-ordinate the raid. She was their officer-in-charge. But all of them gave her one silent message. Her family came first. That included the truth. Hardy's innocence was not in question, but the public didn't know that.

"Miller, get down there," Elaine ordered kindly. "I'll take your place until the allotted time."

Ellie nodded. "Anna, you drive. You're faster than I am. We've got to get there right now."

"Why?"

"Because it's time the town found out what's really been happening. I know this has gone on too long but I can finally prove my husband has been gaslit, and it's time I had a word with Karen White."

/=/=/=/=/

Hardy got out of the car and closed the door behind him. The hospital, a small, late Victorian railway station with a respectful extension to the north side, was lit up behind him. It had a minor injuries A&E, with one trauma cubicle. Most serious cases were taken straight to Bridport. It had four wards beyond the out-patients department; women's, men's, children's and the maternity unit. Surgical was often in with medical, but it served the town well. The operating theatres were in the basement of the extension, with the pathology labs and post-mortem suites around the back.

Pete had parked at the front in the small ten-space car park. But he wasn't looking at the hospital either. Coming along the road towards the hospital as the dawn sky began to lighten enough to hail in the dawn, he could see a large crowd of people. People were calling out to residences as they passed by.

The wind brought they voices to his keen ears.

"What's going on?" Hardy asked, watching the torches bob too and fro, some already being switched off.

"It's a mob, sir. And I don't think they're here to do a dance. Better get you inside." Pete gently nudged him towards the hospital entrance. "Sir. Please? I believe they intend you some harm," he added.

Hardy had never heard Pete use such a serious and commanding voice before. He did as he was told, hurrying towards the entrance. The doors whooshed aside and shut again behind them. He went straight to the woman at reception.

"Morning. Has their been any news about my daughter, Daisy Hardy?"

The woman said good morning and checked her screen. "No news yet, she's still in theatre," she replied.

"And my son, Ben Hardy?"

She checked again. "He's had a quiet night," she informed him.

"Thanks," he said. "Is anyone with him?"

"No one's been with him since yesterday evening when your ex and her man-friend were asked to leave," she said.

"Really?" Hardy suddenly felt a scion of amusement, but hid it. "Why was that?"

"Her mobile phone went off during the night and disturbed the ward, and they were asked to leave."

"Oh." He thought about it and recalled the aborted phone call. "Oh. Can I go up-?"

"DI Hardy?" called out a familiar voice.

Hardy turned to find Connelly hurrying in through the doors. "Oh great. This is not a good time."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	52. Episode 7, Part 2

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Seven, Part Two: Long Overdue Denouement<strong>

Alec slowly turned to look at Connelly, fearing he had bad news. He always brought bad news. The weight of the previous few days sagged his shoulders and had drawn his face and body into a slump of despair. He couldn't take another psychic message right now. "What is it, Connolly? I don't have it in me to take any more bad news."

"No, no. I got a new vision. You did it. You acted in time."

"In time? Daisy's in surgery, possibly fighting for her life."

"Her letter got to you in time for her to tell you most of what happened. The release was enough that she found the courage to run away when I passed on the warning, before it was too late. She'll pull through."

"Who told you that?"

"Louise. She said thank you for finding her epi-pen."

Hardy frowned. He had no knowledge of the girl's medicine being found. He looked at him with desperation. "Are you certain about my daughter?"

"Yes."

"But what else is she keeping from me?"

"It will come out when the doctors finish saving her."

Hardy felt a new hope. If just a sliver of it, it was better than none at all. And right now he would grasp that with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Connelly glanced out through the glass doors. "Looks like trouble. You should face them. Now. Sarah said they blame you, but she knows the person who killed her was a woman. Let them know before Karen White destroys your reputation."

/=/=/=/=/

Karen had walked from the High Street, but she had had a good view of the mob approaching from the road that hugged the flood defences. The sight made her straighten in her shoes. People were on her side after all. That upped her courage to face Hardy once and for all.

There were a few cars on the road at this early hour as well, though she paid them no mind. She wanted to make sure she got to the hospital first to confront Hardy about his actions before the mob arrived. Journalists always wanted to be first on the scene. She was no exception.

The townspeople approaching along the other road would have to wait until she had finished with Hardy before they got their word in. Her business took precedence because it was older and, in her mind, far more potent than anything they had to say.

She could see some faces in the mob that she recognised. Mark and Beth, pushing their way to the front. She felt elated. Even the vicar had turned up. Karen was confident that this was going to be the downfall of DI Hardy. She would get him to face facts, once and for all.

As she took prime position outside the hospital entrance, Hardy came out to meet her, with DC Pete Lawson at his side. Backup, she thought silently. As if he couldn't face her one-on-one. Like a coward, he had a buddy. And a local man stepped out behind them to stand on Hardy's other side; a medium. Oh, this was just extra for her final article.

"Good morning, DI Hardy," she said coldly. "I see you brought two friends. I have the entire town," she gloated.

Mark, Beth and Coates shoved their way out of the crowd to stand with Hardy.

"Not if we have anything to say about it," Mark interjected.

"What have I been saying about not pointing fingers?" cried Coates, eyes pleading with the mob to list to him.

"You haven't heard what I have to say yet," Karen said, unmoved.

"You're here to accuse DI Hardy of covering up the truth," Connelly noted. "I have it on good authority, that you're mixing facts with pretentious lies and half-truths."

"Good authority?" Karen threw back. "You're a fraud, Connelly. Been in prison twice, and lives alone. You're a wash-out and a liar."

"No more a liar than you tell the truth," Beth retorted.

"No one in this town should take anything you say as fact!" Mark added in exclamation. "Were you here when the town was pressuring DI Hardy? When no one was helping by telling the truth so the police could find out who the killer was, you were busy trying to rustle up anyone who would speak against him? He might've kept to himself, but maybe he was right to! After your meddling with Danny's case, he still found out the truth. He got the right man and the right confession! Could you have done the same?!"

"A lot more than most did, or would do!" a voice called out.

The murmuring crowd of onlookers fell silent. One of the cars Karen had spotted earlier had stopped in the car park with an open window and two people had got out.

Hardy had seen them and breathed a sigh of relief. The sight of them and their timely arrival was, for once, a joy. "Maggie. Olly. Didn't know you were back."

"We just got back ten minutes ago," Olly said. "Exciting last few days, but we've helped solve a case and helped this one. All our research is now in the hands of the police. Your wife will be especially overjoyed when she finds out."

Karen scoffed. "You two? Where have you been while I've been here, working?"

Maggie smiled. "Oh, you don't get the right to question us, not given what we've found out about you. We're key witnesses, now. That makes us and what we know beyond your purview."

A standard police car arrived and pulled to a stop, followed by a plain-looking car. Ellie popped out of the lead car an instant later, accompanied by Broome and the uniformed officer driving also stepped out. Superintendent O'Malley and DC Williams joined her from the other car. On the road from the bay, unnoticed as yet, came a convoy of other vehicles, making their relaxed way up the hill towards them.

"Ah, Ellie, perfect timing," called Maggie. "You get to be present for the moment you and the DI have been waiting for: the exposing of Karen White's incompetence and lack of integrity."

Some murmurs passed through the crowd, stilling them and numbing the anger toward Hardy.

Karen's jaw dropped a moment before she recovered her voice. "You what? You're delusional."

Olly shook his head. "You've had it in for DI Alec Hardy for years, but he once told me he couldn't figure out why. So why don't you tell us, because it predates the Sandbrook murders, doesn't it?"

"I put in a request for information that was ignored," Karen put in pointedly.

"And where and when was this?" Hardy asked.

"Leatherhead 1998. DI Hardy was the officer-in-charge of a murder investigation into the murder of a young girl."

"I never worked at that station," Alec protested. "I was in Sandbrook. I was a DS back then."

"You're lying!"

"No, he's not," interrupted Maggie. "I called both stations. I confirmed with Sandbrook that the then DS Alec Hardy was working there at the time and never on loan to Leatherhead."

Karen stared at her, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head. "That's impossible."

Olly decided to leave Mick's role out of things since Karen didn't need to know details. "Unlike you did at the time, I looked into the station. I found out something interesting about how in the old days before security was tightened that stations used to list its officers for the public record, available should anyone wish to contact a particular officer with information on a particular case. The lists included the first initial only and then last name. Maggie and I called Leatherhead to confirm a few details of the murder case. The Superintendent there at that time, now Chief Superintendent, remembers the case well. He also recalls his DI Hardy well. But his answer? He said, 'An _Alec_ Hardy? No, there was never anyone by that name here'."

Karen shook her head, but Olly didn't let her speak.

"He stressed the first name, which we both noticed from the case notes. So we asked if there was an 'A Hardy' at Leatherhead at that time. We were directed to that person, now the Super, and spoke to them. Do you know who answered? A lovely woman by the name '_Anna_ Hardy'."

Karen stilled, mouth moving in silence. She did not hear the gasps behind and around her.

"She vaguely remembered the request. Said it was disrespectful to the still ongoing investigation and would have compromised the case. So she and her then Super felt justified in ignoring it, especially since the requester didn't bother to find out that their DI Hardy was a woman and not a man."

Mark and Beth's jaws dropped further than the rest of the crowd.

Ellie ruthlessly suppressed the smile at the paling expression on Karen's face. Oh this early morning was going splendidly so far.

Alec shook his head, the urge to pace coming out, but he stopped himself. "All this time... you assumed I was the same person. You never bothered to check? Isn't there some rule in journalism to investigate and question everything? Or did you just fall back on the old adage - sift the wheat and print the chaff?!"

Karen's mouth kept moving, but no words came out.

Maggie smirked. "Your editor and I had a lovely chat about you, by the way. He would've called you himself to inform you that you're out of a job, but I asked him to wait until I had the opportunity to tell you right in front of the whole town. He agreed that it was only fair given that your article about Jack Marshall led to his death after you provoked a witch hunt. If it had been me, I wouldn't have spat on you, like Mrs. Marshall did. I'd have had you arrested for libel, pissed in a cup and thrown it at you."

"We trusted that you were good at your job," Beth exclaimed. "If we'd known about this we would never have spoken to you, even if we feared never finding out what happened to Danny!"

"I'm not sure I would've said anything, either," Dean agreed from where he stood at the front of the crowd. "After Jack died, I always felt bad about what I said. I guess we all misunderstood him."

Several voices agreed.

Olly stood taller and looked very satisfied. "And now I've made up for listening to you, Karen, and for making the DI's job harder. You do know that he can slap you with a libel suit, right? Both him and Jack Marshall's wife. He left everything to her, even after everything that had happened. Maggie spoke with her and she was not happy to learn why everything really happened here and what started it."

Ellie smirked. "In short, Karen, you never bothered to check if you had the correct information. And your articles on this case, and Danny's, interfered with the police investigations, possibly delaying the resolution for days. If not weeks, in Danny's case. So I can finally have the satisfaction of doing this."

The uniformed officer was ready and handed her a pair of handcuffs. Ellie quickly snapped one on Karen's left wrist.

"Karen White, I am arresting you for obstructing a police investigation, libel, defamation of character, harassment and stalking a police officer..."

"You can't do this!" Karen wailed.

Ellie ignored her. "...You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court..."

The other wrist was cuffed before Karen could do more than attempt to struggle.

"...Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?"

Karen stilled and nodded, mutely. "Yes."

"Are you carrying sharp objects, weapons, alcohol or legal or illegal drugs on your person?"

"No," Karen replied sullenly. "A packet of cigarettes," she added after a moment.

Ellie unclipped the woman's handbag strap and took it from her shoulder, passing it to a uniformed officer. "We can now prove your interference is against the law," she told her. "You'll be taken to court to stand trial and, with any luck, you'll spending time in jail. I'm sure you'll find plenty of stories to tell. Just remember to double-check them if you plan to present them as the truth, in court or elsewhere."

Karen was officially silenced as she was led away to the waiting car. She had heard that when this DS got into this state there was no arguing with her. And her colleagues looked on with approval of her actions. If her editor was not going to defend her, then she was screwed. But stalking?

/=/=/=/=/

As Karen White was driven away in a police car, Chloe arrived with Tom.

"What's happened?" she asked.

Tom spied his dad and rushed towards him to hug him. "I thought they'd arrested you," he said.

"No, not me," Hardy replied. "Karen White. I was exonerated. I've done nothing wrong."

The two teenagers were quickly updated by Dean. Tom and Chloe looked at Ellie with even deeper and somewhat fearful respect than before.

"She's cooler than I thought," Chloe responded to Dean.

Dean just nodded, unable to look away any more than she could.

Hardy numbly hugged Tom back, but his body could not stop shaking. "What did I miss?" he muttered to himself. "What did I not spot? How could I not know she hated me that much?"

"You came close to being arrested for murder, sir," Broome replied. "And Karen White just overlooked the obvious, dismissed the ridiculous and went for the insane instead. She wanted you hung out to dry for murder, child molesting and rape. All crimes for which you have cast-iron alibis."

She made sure her voice carried across the whole mob, which left them talking amongst themselves and redirecting their anger toward the woman in the car driving away.

Nearby, Beth just stared at him with her jaw slowly dropping. Her words to Ellie came back to mind, and she felt her body go heavy.

Coates numbly made the sign of the cross. "Oh, mother of God," he whispered, unable to believe what he had just heard. "That anyone can stoop so low..."

Natalie, who pushed her way through the crowd, stepped closer and linked her arm with his, squeezing. It made him meet her eyes. "Know that I'd never even think of being half that cruel to you. Or our child," she whispered.

He drew her into a hug, and was glad that she was not hesitant about returning it. Or caring that the whole town would now know he was the father of her baby. Maybe she would finally say yes.

Mark silently reached for Beth's hand, which she numbly took. They both felt like bigger fools than ever for listening to Karen once.

An instant later Chloe flew into their arms after a moment's look exchanged with Dean. The whole family trembled, all unable to look away from the stunned DI still being hugged by his son. Dean slowly came toward them, hoping to be of any comfort and not knowing what else he could do.

"Mum, Dad, I've got something to tell you, and there might not be a better time. But Dean's asked me to marry him, and I've said yes."

It was the only time when her words could produce no reaction from her parents other than shock.

Ellie looked at her watch, and glanced at the convoy slowly creeping up the road. Time to get the crowd out of the way. She looked to the Super.

O'Malley tapped Ellie on the arm. "Go. We've got five minutes. Get your husband and son out of sight. I'll disperse the crowd."

"Thank you."

With that she moved swiftly to Hardy and took his arm. "Come on," she coaxed. "Me and Tom are going for breakfast. You're going to see Ben and Daisy."

Hardy slowly met her eyes, needing a moment to register her words. Then he nodded.

"We're taking them home, right?" asked Tom hopefully. "I mean, they have nowhere to go that's safe."

"Tom, quiet," Ellie told him softly and patiently. "I know you've worked it all out in your head, so I'm not going to lie to you. But for now, nothing's decided and we have to wait. Don't let on a word."

"What's going on?" Hardy asked.

Ellie straightened. "Custody," she said. "You're going to fight to get Ben and Daisy back, aren't you?" She hoped her white lie wasn't noticed.

Hardy did not speak. When was he able to think that far ahead? But one clear thought did emerge from his fuzzed mind. His thoughts turned to Daisy and Ben. "How am I going to tell them? They're in the shadow of a man they fear, but... Tess is still their mother. How do you tell two children, one only four years old, that their mother-?" He couldn't say it, was desparate to be mistaken.

Ellie sighed. "Just go. I'll help you with that as soon as I can."

Her lack of challenging his fears did not settle his emotions. "Where are you going?"

"Got something vital to do. Please. I'm on a timer here. When it's done, you can do what I did with Tom. Tell the kids the bare minimum that counts as the truth."

/=/=/=/=/

Hardy stood in the hospital, completely uninterested in the little room they had put him in. Parent's lounge, the panel on the door had said. The nurse had just handed him every parent's worst nightmare. The evidence was irrefutable and would be passed on to the relevant authorities. It was very likely that his daughter would be placed in care, if a place existed, since she was already seventeen, and possibly face arrest.

Ellie had taken Tom to the canteen to find something to eat. Ben was still asleep. Lucy had the rest of the kids. Karen was off his back, at last.

But those things weren't what bothered him the most. Daisy was very ill and in theatre and had been for hours. He sat down and found his hands shaking at the thought of how bad it could have been. She could have been a dead body in a gutter somewhere, raped and mutilated. The murderer was still out there somewhere. As it was, she could have been dead anyway. She had haemorrhaged. She had been missing for hours. No one knew yet where she had been, but they knew what she had been doing the other night. But that could wait.

The nurse returned. "Mr Hardy?"

Hardy looked up, expectantly. "Yes?"

"Daisy's been moved to the ward. Would you like to see her?"

"Please, yes," he said and got to his feet at once.

He followed the nurse to the postnatal ward and to a side room. The nurse opened the door for him and allowed him in. Hardy didn't know what to expect. As it was, his daughter lay in the cot-like gurney, looking asleep. She had two IVs attached, one in each arm. As he approached he saw that she wasn't asleep.

"Hello, Daisy," he said carefully.

"Hello, Dad."

"How are you feeling?"

"A bit groggy."

"It'll pass," he assured her.

There was an uneasy silence for several seconds.

"I suppose you know, now," she said.

"About the baby? Yes," he confirmed. "I've also been told a few more facts about you since I last saw you. What in hell possessed you to get into shoplifting?" he was trying to keep his anger in check, but some of it dribbled out into his voice. This was hardly the time, given her poor health, but he had to know.

"I didn't want to do it," she told him. "They made me do it."

"Who did?"

"My boyfriend, Godfrey... when he was my boyfriend," she added. "He's in a gang. You have to do it to be in."

"Aw, for gods' sakes, Daisy!" he growled. "What have I told you, time and time again, about gangs?!"

"But I liked him!" she argued. "He said he'd dump me if I didn't, and he'd tell everyone that I was a slag, and tell the police that my dad was the real Sandbrook Murderer."

"And you believed him?!"

"I did at first. But only for a few days," she added.

"Well, thank you for your support!" he griped. "And ignoring my calls? What was that about? Was that getting back at me for not being there, or was that Godfrey's idea?

"No. Mum took my phone off me four years ago! Thanks for asking!"

"All right, fine! What about getting pregnant? What was that? Don't tell me that was your mum's idea!"

"You weren't there, so how would you know what happened?"

"That wasn't my fault, Daisy, Your mum stopped me seeing you," he revealed. "I know girls like to experiment, but this boyfriend of yours faces charges of sex with a minor. Did that occur to you? Is he the baby's father? Because I have a few words to say to him about putting something on the end of it! And as for you; the fact that you have slept with someone, at your age, has its just rewards as far as reputation goes. You made your own bed on that matter!"

"You make it sound like I got pregnant on purpose," Daisy accused him.

"I didn't say that," Hardy replied.

"No, but it's what you meant!" She rapidly sank into tears.

"It's everything else, Daisy, everything together; the shoplifting, the stay out at all hours. What did I tell you about getting into crime, eh? It looks bad on your mum and it looks bad on me."

"It's all about you, isn't it?" Daisy threw back. "Your job, your reputation! Well, you ruined that when you lost that pendant. Oh I know what happened. I'm not stupid. I can read. It was all over the newspapers. But this isn't about you. This time it was about me."

"That gives you no excuse to ruin your life, Daisy!" he tossed back, angrily. "I am not in the mood to listen to you justify your actions. You're barely out of school-"

"You think I don't know that?!" she sobbed. "No one listened. No one cared. And you just vanished out of my life like it was my fault! And then you come back in, accusing me, like I had a choice!"

Hardy stared at her, struck dumb. Suddenly his insides, his world and the ground he stood on, sank. "What choice? What do you mean?"

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	53. Episode 7, Part 3

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post. And... here it comes...

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Seven<strong>**.**** Part Three: The Last Stand**

Hardy left Daisy to sleep and closed the door behind him.

Pete had remained in the corridor. "The crowd had been dispersed, sir. All's quiet on the Western Front, as they say." His joke fell flat, as always. He sobered. "Everything all right, sir, with Daisy?"

"Thankfully, yes," Hardy replied. "Though there will be further legal procedures to get through before she can go home. And, I don't know how much input I'll have in that. How long have you been on duty?"

Pete thought about it. "Since yesterday morning, I think."

"Go home and get some sleep," Hardy said kindly. "I'll be all right. No one's going to try anything. Not while I'm here. And there's staff on hand if there's trouble."

Pete reluctantly agreed. "Well, if you're sure, sir?"

Hardy nodded. "Go on. I'm going to check on my son."

He watched him go and walked along the main corridor towards the children's ward at the far end. As he keyed the admittance button he felt a surge of pride.

"Hi, it's Hardy, Ben's dad," he said into the speaker.

"Door's open," the voice announced and the door lock clunked open.

He pushed the door open, letting it close behind him. He could smell breakfast. He smiled a greeting to the nurses who were serving breakfast. They had all been informed that he was Ben's real dad. Otherwise they would never have let him in.

He moved to the observation room behind the nurse's station and was pleased to find Ben sitting up, eating toast and marmalade.

"Hello," Hardy greeted. "May I come in?"

Ben nodded firmly.

"What have you got for breakfast?" Ben told him. "A bit early for breakfast, isn't it?"

"The nurse said they have lots of breakfasts to give out so they do it early so it's still hot," Ben explained.

"That's fair enough," Hardy decided. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you," he said politely.

"I need to tell you something, something very important," Hardy began. "And I have to apologise as well."

Ben looked up at him with large brown eyes.

"I've just found out that someone lied about you and me being related. I am your dad."

"Yey!" he crowed, reaching delicately for a hug.

The sight broke Hardy's heart. He had just given the boy a dream come true. Holding back tears he carefully leaned in to hold him, being mindful of the equipment needed to keep Ben stable. The tears did fall at feeling just how weak his body was, and the love his son had for him when he had not been there to earn it. As it was, the little kiss on the cheek would have been enough to make him cry.

When they drew apart Ben looked at him with a huge smile, the same smile he had seen so many times on Harry's face. "Can I come and live with you now? Then Mummy will be happier coz she'll have you instead of Bruce."

Hardy nearly choked as he took Ben's hands. "Well, no, actually... That wouldn't work, because I'm married to someone else."

Ben's face fell.

"But you can come and stay during the holidays," Hardy offered. He would rather he had full custody, but he had no way of getting that. And he would not take the kids from Tess unless he had to. At this point he had no reason to suspect she had anything to do with the injuries found on Ben. Tess was uncaring and heartless, but she was not abusive. Not physically, at least.

Although he still did not know for certain what the investigation had found, he had a hunch what it led to. He wanted to be wrong, Even more so than with Joe.

"Please?" Ben asked with such trust and hope.

But before Hardy could answer, Tess and Bruce arrived at the hospital room. They saw him at once, no way they couldn't in such a small space. What caught Hardy's attention first was the long scratch on Bruce's neck. It was healing well, but was still hard to miss. And Tess's leg was stillsore. She had a large gash on her thigh, visible at the hem of her skirt. It was surrounded by a bruising and was infected. There were tape marks around it, an indication that she had covered it up for a while, but had either run out of bandages or had decided to leave it exposed to the air in the hopes of it healing quicker.

"What are you doing in here?" Tess demanded.

A confrontation with his ex, Hardy thought silently. How his day was already shaping up. He kept silent about what he had learned mere hours before. Knowledge that their injuries were reminding him sharply of details he had learned about the murder case. "I'm not leaving," Hardy replied, not letting go of his son.

"Get out of my son's room!" Tess ordered.

Ben sat in the bed in shocked silence. He looked from his mum to his dad, wondering what was going on.

Hardy remained where he was and kept holding Ben's hands. "I'm visiting," Hardy replied. "Since my name is on Ben's certificate, that means he's also my son."

"I'm not having _my_ son anywhere near a child murderer," Tess tossed across the room.

Bruce blinked. "He's a what?"

"The police found a body in his driveway," Tess explained. "Everyone knows he killed her. The shoes on his doorstep will prove it."

"They weren't my shoes," Hardy replied gently.

"Yes, they were!" Tess shot back. "You've had those shoes for seven years."

Hardy found it increasingly alarming that Tess knew about the shoes found on his doorstep. No one outside the case knew about them. But the conclusion growing in his mind just didn't fit the image he had had of her. The woman he had loved. The mother of two of his children. She had framed him for murder... No. There was more to it than that. The only way she could have known about the shoes would be if... she had put them there. He couldn't speak for a moment.

"What are you doing in here, anyway?" Tess demanded. "Family visitors only."

"As his dad I am family," Hardy responded, hiding his turmoil.

"He's not your son," Tess reminded him. "You ordered a paternity test, or have you forgotten?"

"No, I hadn't forgotten. But the result that came back was wrong. The test was contaminated and it was redone," Hardy replied.

"So what!" Tess threw back. "Ben is Bruce's son. So get out."

"He ain't my son," Bruce shot at her.

Tess looked at him aghast. "What are you talking about. The test said he was."

"I never took that test," Bruce replied. "I knew he wasn't mine from the beginning. I only went along with it coz I fancied you."

Tess stared at him in shock. Her life was crumbling away beneath her feet.

"My god, woman, are you stupid? I did that test myself, so I know Ben's your ex's son. I swapped his DNA for mine. But I can't get you pregnant. I don't have the parts. I got testicular cancer when I was nineteen, had 'em both removed. For nearlyfive years I've had to put up with that little brat getting in the way all the time. I should have been given a medal!"

At that moment, Ellie and Anna arrived with five of the biggest officers available as backup, gave a silent signal to the nurses that the situation was in hand and not to intervene. At this point only Ben and Hardy could see her as she stepped into the room. "Mr. Bruce Stratton?" she called out. Just as the wall clock ticked 06:00.

Tess and Bruce whirled, startled.

"Yes?" Bruce grumbled.

"DS Miller. You might remember me."

"What of it?" Bruce put in with annoyance.

"I am here to arrest you for the murders of Luiz Gotleib and of Louise Dusk, kidnapping, false imprisonment, child abuse, grooming and obstructing a police investigation. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?"

"I did nothing!" Bruce shouted. He struggled to avoid the uniformed officers, but a movement in the doorway turned his blood cold. Hailey Bridgewater stood there, like an apparition. His guilt in solid form. Bruce could only nod as one uniformed officer strode in and slapped cuffs on his wrists.

"Grooming!" Tess wheezed. "Child abuse!" She glanced at her son, sitting in shock in the bed. "Oh god. If you've touched my kids, I'll kill you!" she roared.

Ellie turned her head to look at her blankly. "Teresa Hardy. I am arresting you for the murder of Sarah Wallace and obstructing justice. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?"

It took Ellie, Anna and all five of the uniformed officers they had brought with them to subdue both suspects, but finally they were cuffed and silent. It was all she could do to hold her husband back from lashing out at either one of them. Or, in his case, lashing out with his voice.

Ellie panted as the officers, paired together, guarded Bruce and Tess to prevent them from killing each other or attempting to escape. She refused to show any more signs of effort than that. After a glance to confirm Hailey was unharmed she faced Tess, the most angry of the pair, and probably with good reason. "A word of advice: don't attack anyone when your target has witnesses to a self-defence claim."

Tess struggled for breath, but managed to snap, "Oh, don't tell me you fight being arrested."

"Just because you think about doing something don't mean you actually do it," Ellie snapped. "It's called self-discipline. Something you obviously didn't learn properly. And your partner, here, didn't learn at all. We already have evidence that he abused your son and enough evidence to put to the CPS that you ignored it. The Courts take a dim view of women who allow their children to be harmed by another person."

Tess paled to chalk. But Ellie had more.

"It was not exactly smart to admit that you had fantasised about kicking your ex-husband's arse and get him removed from the Force. Your fellow officers were quite willing to give evidence to that fact." Ellie silently gloated at the effect of that statement on Tess. It was not exactly smart, either, to admit that you had fantasised about kicking your husband's ex-wife's arse more than once, but she was enjoying the opportunity too much to care who knew about it. Ellie was never going to admit to how much enjoyment she was getting from this. "Take them away," she ordered.

Tess was dragged away, with Bruce led in front of her. But her mouth would not remain silent.

"Oh, look at him! Not so high and confident now! You'll be doubting yourself for the rest of your life, Alec!" she shouted. "The only reason I married you was because you were good in bed!"

"Shut it!" snapped Ellie. "You don't have any right to yell at him just because your superiors recognised him _and_ your then DS lover as the better investigators. Your Chief Super had little complimentary to say about you other than your reputation as by-the-book. Which he realised would've been exposed had they looked more carefully at your statements about the evidence theft. Hardy wasn't driving his car that day and you know it."

"What right do you have to wave that detail at me? You married a man on his way to being a ped-"

"Oh, how you forget your anger from moments ago! You had glaring signs that something was wrong, and you ignored them. I had none."

"What makes you think your new husband is any better?"

"Because he is."

"Then why don't you take his name?"

"I did. It'd just be a little confusing at work." At Tess' look of confusion, Ellie decided it was time to reveal the truth. "See, my second husband, the man I will be married to for the rest of our lives, is the same man you tossed aside for this piece of garbage."

Tess was shocked still. The officer holding her dragged her out of the ward, followed by a second. But they could hear her mutter, "How did she meet Victor?"

Ellie shook her head slowly. Anna pinched the bridge of her nose.

With Bruce securely held by two others, the fifth remained a moment. "Will the children need further police protection?" he asked.

"They're safe, now," Ellie replied confidently. "Good work. I'll be back at the station shortly."

The officer nodded and left to rejoin the others.

Once Tess and Bruce had been led away, the shock got to Alec and he wobbled on his feet. Hailey rushed to aid Ellie as she helped him into a nearby chair, where he could keep Ben calm. The boy was in floods of tears. Nurses rushed around him to ensure his heart was fine and he was unhurt. Throughout the confusion Hailey gripped Hardy's arm as a lifeline, staying quiet so the focus could be on Ben.

"Dad!" cried Tom, rushing in to hug Hardy. No one had known he was there. "Dad, she's worse than Joe _ever_ could've been," he whispered. It seemed that the actions he witnessed, the realisation of the crimes committed had allowed him to make the final break in how he spoke of the man who had been his father. "Don't listen to her! She's just bitter and jealous. The only good things she did were giving you Daisy and Ben."

Hardy sobbed then, out of relief more than anything. He moved just enough to hug both boys and they shared the relief.

"Where's Mummy gone now?" Ben sobbed.

"To the police station," Hardy explained. "They'll ask her questions and put her in a cell until the case goes to Court. The jury will decide of she did the crime. If they say she did it, she'll go to prison. If they say she didn't she'll be free to go home."

"What about me and Daisy?"

"You're coming home with us," Tom put in at once. "Aren't they, Dad?"

Hardy hesitated for a moment. "That will be decided by another Court," he explained. "And that will be one hell of a fight."

Tom opened his mouth to ask why, but in lifting his head he became aware of the girl beside them because Anna was giving her a chair. He only knew that her hair was dyed and she was not Daisy. "Who are you?" he asked gently, noting how fragile she seemed.

Hardy met Hailey's watery eyes and could see the child she had been at sleepovers, the child who had needed to feel safe after a nightmare. "Hailey," he whispered in empathy, raising his arm to offer a hug that he could tell she needed. Thankfully Tom understood he needed to back off to make room.

She broke down and clutched him. With his arm around her she could pretend she was nine years old again and needing comfort from what was merely a bad dream.

She would hang on to that illusion as long as she could.

Tom watched in shock. What kind of horrors had this girl, who must be one of Daisy's friends, been through? He lost himself in those thoughts, not feeling his mum put her hand on his arm or noticing Anna leave the room as she drew out her phone.

/=/=/=/=/

As they were led into the car park, Tess and Bruce glared at each other. Neither one wanted to admit any fault in the other's situation or their own. But as they were placed in separate police cars, both realised that their lives were in tatters. Nothing would ever be the same for Tess. Bruce silently wondered if his employers had found out about his meddling. He decided they probably had. He knew it would only be a matter of time. But the grooming... He was finished. Unless...

He manoeuvred his hands around his side to get out his mobile.

"No point trying to call your friends," the driving officer told him calmly without turning. "We took the liberty of blocking all outgoing calls. Your network supplier was only too willing to help with that."

Bruce sank back in the seat. He was finished.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	54. Episode 7, Part 4

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Seven. Part Four: Statement To The Press<strong>

"Good morning."

Hardy thought that was a good start. Nice and Professional, but not overbearing. The voice of calm, but not too detached. Inside, his emotions were roiling. His son was ill, his daughter had been raped and his ex-wife was a murderer. And yet, he had to be professional, calm and detached. He would rather have gone for overbearing and just roared at the camera pointed at him. But that would never do. He had a job to do.

He was shaking.

He felt the worried gaze of the Chief Superintendent on him from his left. He had known for some time that they would give him back the reins of the case, but he felt like a usurper. He felt as if Ellie should be sitting here. She had done all the work. She had cleared his name. She had solved the case. She had made the arrests.

And they were putting this on live broadcast. Filmed in front of nearly the whole town. He had better make this good. He knew even the most professional manner would not prevent some of the listeners from crying or feeling devastated or any number of emotions. It was human nature. He would speak over as much of it as he could. Even if the emotions were his own.

"I'm DI Hardy of Broadchurch CID. On behalf of Wessex police, thank you for coming to this press release. On behalf of all the officers involved in this inquiry I would like to thank the Foreign Office, the Metropolitan Police, the local businesses and members of the public for their support and their help in bringing this case to its current level. This has been a harrowing, long and difficult ordeal for the families and friends of the victims and I thank them for their patience and diligence. Never before have our officers had to work with such a traumatic case spanning language, culture and international boundaries, and I commend them all for their outstanding perseverance and their unflinching and unfailing duty to justice and public safety in getting the result we all hoped for in a timely manner.

"The need for secrecy up to this point was absolutely vital in bringing charges on the right suspects. If even a whisper had been made public before now, we may never have been able to make arrests, nor found the reasons behind the vile and horrific crimes that have been committed in our town.

"Several people have been questioned with regard to the murders of three young girls in Broadchurch, and all but two of them have been released without charge. We believe we now have the persons responsible, but we do ask for the public to come forward if they have not already done so to share with us any information they have on the events of July and August this year. I cannot stress enough that any insignificant detail to you may be of vital importance to us in piecing together the chain of events that led to and followed the deaths of three innocent girls. By request of the families, their names have been withheld. We ask the Press to respect that request and leave them and their friends alone to grieve with dignity.

"A body of a young girl was found at 8:15 am on 17th of July this year in the front garden of a property in the Finch Lane area of Broadchurch, but we can now confirm that victim was likely to have been abducted some time during the previous evening from the vicinity of a bus stop on the High Street at or shortly after 8pm. We are still asking anyone who was in those areas between 7pm of the 16th and 8am on the 17th to please come forward with information so they may be eliminated from the inquiry, and that we can piece together the victim's movements. They may hold vital witness evidence, even if they may not be aware of it. The girl is of pale complexion, blue eyed and has light coloured hair and around 16 years of age, wearing pink leggings and a pink vest-style top.

"While still at the scene, officers were made aware of an attack on another young girl in the High Street area. We believe she was a guest at the Trader's Hotel and was abducted from that location and left mortally wounded on nearby disused land. She died at the scene with police officers in attendance and paramedics who attempted to safe her. This victim was a foreign national. Again, the identity of the girl has not been made public and we would urge the Press to contain their zeal in manufacturing details for their readers, and remind them that their amateur sleuthing and bullying tactics are not welcome by the police or the families of the victims.

"A third victim was found in undergrowth to the rear of Hillside Crescent on 22nd of Julythis year at 7:28am. Police would still like to speak to several guests, joggers and cyclists who were in the area at the time. Again, the unhelpful articles printed in the national press waylaid our officers in identifying the victim and informing the family in a timely manner. Several families were tipped off by reporters that the girl was their daughter, causing unnecessary confusion and untold distress.

"Because of this interference, it took us some time to realise the links and red herrings of all three murders, leading one to be downgraded to accidental death. This case began as two separate murder inquiries, but which were merged into one for a time. By the time of the third death we realised we were, in fact, looking at two separate murder inquiries, plus a third connected case that has initiated an inquiry and further arrests in south London, involving several more victims. The Broadchurch murder cases will now be handed to the Crown Prosecution Service as two cases, while the third case is still being investigated. This third case, is based in Sandbrook in Croydon and involves kidnapping, false imprisonment, child pornography and grooming.

"For that case, we believe we have all the suspects in custody, but we know there may be people who knew about the activities in and around Mitcham Common and the streets to the north and east. We would like them to come forward, or anyone who knows those involved to come forward with information as soon as possible. If you believe your child or a child of someone you know may be involved, speak to officers at your local police station as soon as possible.

"We would like to make our stance absolutely clear. Reprisals and vigilante behaviour will not be tolerated. Let us do our jobs without having to deal with unruly or violent offences against members of the public or the police. Whenever children are involved it is a distressing situation, and our officers have been performing the delicate task of sifting through reams of information and evidence. It is a difficult job, but Broadchurch and Sandbrook officers have performed above and beyond the call of duty to catch the people involved.

"We would again ask the public to be on the look out for any person acting suspiciously and to inform the police. The person or persons we are still looking for could be armed and dangerous. We would ask that women and girls not change their habits or business, but be aware of who is around you, especially if you are going out alone. We will catch the persons responsible. We have increased the number of foot patrols in both locations and we would ask the public to remain calm.

"We are still looking for an item of clothing as yet unaccounted for; a light blue, flower-print, skirt with a German label, Joop. If you have seen this item, or know where it is, please do not touch it or manipulate it in any way, but inform the police immediately. It is of extreme importance that we find this item as it holds vital forensic evidence. Also, we are still looking for an epi-pen, last seen in the area of Hillside Crescent in Broadchurch. It is similar to the one being shown on your screens now, used by both diabetics and those with severe allergies. We believe the item has no lid. If you see it, do not touch it, but contact the police immediately.

"I would also like to clear up the matter of police involvement in the aforementioned crimes. Despite a gagging order in place, certain broadsheets have broken silence and publicised erroneous and insinuating articles implicating members of Wessex Police in the murders in Broadchurch and the associated cases. I would like to make our position very clear that at no time was any officer of this force questioned, arrested or charged with any crime connected to this or any other murder. The officers affected by these claims are being advised on legal action for libel, should they wish to take it.

Our phone lines are still open and our work will continue. Thank you for coming. That is all."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	55. Episode 7, Part 5

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Seven. Part Five: Public Scrutiny<strong>

Hardy waited for the camera crew to signal that they were done filming. Now came the second half of the meeting. Questions and answers. Onto the stage, came several other key persons; Maggie, Olly, and Ellie. The hall was filled with locals and the families of those who had been killed in Broadchurch.

This was not going to be easy. Considering the mob mentality that had met him at the hospital that morning, he doubted they would go easy on him.

"We can now take questions from the floor," he invited.

One person shot to their feet and voiced the one question they all knew was coming.

"What are you doing on the stage, DI Hardy?" the man demanded, the same man who had brought up Sandbrook at one of the meetings about Danny. "You're the suspect. The girl was found in your garden!"

Hardy suddenly found a peace about him that hadn't been there a moment before. "The body of a young girl was found on the property owned by my wife," he began. "Our son found her. She had been moved there from where she had been kidnapped and murdered. We know from the autopsy that she was hidden in a vehicle for several hours. My daughter's locket was found near the body, a photograph of my daughter was pushed inside the girl's pocket and an old pair of shoes was found on my doorstep. These itemswere deliberately placed at the scene to incriminate me."

"Of course you were," a woman shouted, getting to her feet. "You were the officer-in-charge. You'd make every excuse under the sun to get yourself cleared!" Around her people agreed and began murmuring their approval.

"I was not the officer-in-charge," Hardy replied.

The hall fell silent.

"That was a lie printed in the papers to discredit me," Hardy explained.

"That's not the critical thing here," Maggie called out, her voice alone motioning for attention. Although she could not keep the smile off her face at how Karen had looked like she was going to faint at the thought of being sued, never mind facing prison time. Revenge was sweet and public, and she had earned every bit of it. "You all know me. You trust my word. I have never printed unsubstantiated stories in my paper. Trust me now. Hardy is not at fault, nor is he guilty or anything. The important thing is that you know the truth about the accusations that have been made against DI Hardy. What you don't know is that Karen White has been stalking DI Hardy for over a decade for a cold case in a police station he never worked at. She mistook him for an officer with a similar name who was the officer-in-charge of an inquiry that went cold."

"Thank you, Maggie," Ellie answered put in. She was unsure why Maggie and Olly had been given clearance to be on the panel, but she respected her Super's decision. "Ladies and gentleman, as you should all know by now, my husband was pulled from the investigation into all three murders in Broadchurch. The reason was not that he was a suspect, but because there appeared to be links to the Sandbrook case that he was in charge of prior to his assignment to our CID. Because of the evidence placed at the scene of the first murder, our team spent far longer on that investigation than was necessary. Hindrance from the likes of Karen White and others lengthened that investigation with erroneous leads and false evidence and DI Hardy was removed from the investigation as a precautionary measure. " She took a breath. This was her first public debate on a case. She hoped her nerves weren't showing. "If it weren't for this, we could have caught the person responsible much earlier. Instead, I and my team had to spend many days clearing the DI's name rather than dismissing the planted evidence. When Forensics looked at the evidence that linked him to the three murders, inconsistencies kept coming up that proved he was being falsely implicated."

The audience stilled as one.

"The evidence on the body found in my driveway proved that she was murdered somewhere else. My officers walked from where the girl was staying to my house several times trying to find the exact spot. And during that time we had to determine how her body got from there to my garden. We discovered that while the timing was possible, there should have been evidence left in our car and on my husband's clothes and shoes, and on his person that indicated that he was involved. There was none. My husband did not kill the first girl, and he was at the scene of the second murder while the paramedics battled to save her life, and has an alibi for the time of death recorded for the third victim. To reiterate, my husband has been proven to be innocent. He was not, at any time, suspected, arrested or charged. Shall we move on to another question? Or are their more doubts?" she asked.

"Can you go into detail?" one of the local men asked. "What evidence was found?"

"I can't go into that," Ellie replied. "Those details are for the Court. But I can tell you that the second girl was mistaken for someone else."

The Gotliebs were shaking hard, German curses muttered under the father's breath. A holiday that should have been full of joy and adventure, all ruined because of mistaken identity. The father looked like he would have torn the perpetrator apart with his bare hands if given an opening.

Nearby, the Dusk family held hands. They had already guessed who Luiz Gotleib had been mistaken for. But they had not, in their wildest nightmare, have considered Louise a victim of murder. Mrs. Dusk sobbed, unable to stand under the weight of grief.

"In the course of our investigation into the death of the third girl," Ellie continued. "We found evidence that connected our case with that of another investigation that is still ongoing in London. We found that both killers were acting out of revenge, but for differing reasons. We have been liasing with the Metropolitan Police and are confident of a speedy handover to the CPS for trial. I hope you understand that details of that inquiry cannot be disclosed at this time."

Becca closed her eyes and lowered her head. Thank god her fears for Hailey had overridden her reluctance to come forward. Maybe she had saved a life. And now the town and the tourists would know she and her hotel had nothing to do with the murders. The last thing she needed was to be flooded with guests hunting gory details. She had already had one necrophile turn up asking questions. She would need to do some creative thinking to ensure her reputation was not damaged by this, but her job was a lot easier now.

But those poor families, she thought. The killers' obsession with revenge for what were probably imaginary slights had ruined at least five families, kept a seasoned investigator off the job and injured reputations, kept a father and children apart through deception, and prevented them from getting the father's love they deserved. She suspected that based on where the forensics officers had taken evidence and bags from. Becca was certain that the events of this summer had made the horrors everyone felt Joe had inflicted on the town seem tame by comparison. Not that it diminished the harm, but more families and lives were directly affected this time around. Hailey had told her that at least two dozen girls were involved, and some of them would never be going home.

Broadchurch had been sent into a deeper terror. Only the memory of Jack Marshall had probably kept things from getting any worse than they did. Hardy may have been exonerated by the police, but the truth would take a lot longer to sink into the local psyche.

Nigel was sitting near the Latimers. He had been unable to make a sound for a while. He had played his part in the investigation. He had found a girl on the side of the road, but so far no one had mentioned her, explained her place in it all or mentioned whether she had survived or not. He fidgeted, wondering if he should ask, and wondered if he would incriminate himself in doing so.

Thankfully, the assembled crowd had finally accepted that Hardy was innocent and that meddling from outside and from the murderers themselves had made his life intolerable for no sane reason. Despite promises made after the Danny case, they had pointed fingers again. Anyone and everyone had been a target for their anger, and Hardy more than most.

And besides, they had to concede, what would have been Hardy's motive? His whereabouts for the days that Sarah was in town were accounted for. He had had no opportunity to meet her. And the same fact overshadowed all remaining doubts about his guilt with Luiz. And as for Louise; Hardy hadn't remembered that she was one of his daughter's friends until after the murder, which at that time had been graded as accidental death. The evidence held up even less when they looked into Luiz Gotlieb's murder. A careful examination proved that she scratched her killer. There were no such scratches on Hardy.

The reaction was a slow realisation of just how far off the beaten track Karen had gone with her 'expose'. She hadn't just questioned his professional conduct. This time she had set out to damage him personally.

"Where were you when the third girl died?" someone asked.

"At the time of the third victim's death, DI Hardy was at the police station," the Chief Super replied to the pointed question. "We first believed she had died as a result of a severe allergy. We can now rule that out as circumstantial. The rest of the evidence points to a deliberate and depraved act that ended her life."

Mrs. Dusk cried out in anguish and the entire room felt the pain. Their hearts went out to her.

"Then it was a coincidence that there were Sandbrook links?" asked Reverend Coates, the voice of reason.

"No," Ellie replied. "The girls were _deliberately_ chosen by the killers to implicate DI Hardy and in doing so exposed the links with Sandbrook."

"Will you name killers?" asked John Wallace. "The cameras are switched off, now. What's stopping you from naming them and the victims? If you knew DI Hardy was innocent, why keep him off the case until now? That just adds fuel to the fire that he was involved."

Ellie noticed that more than a few people were unnerved by that. So she promptly answered. "There was never any doubt in DI Hardy's innocence. It was felt that with the evidence linking the first girl to him, all of which was planted, that it was better to be safe than sorry. I was placed as officer-in-charge until such times as we could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the evidence was false. The killer intended to put us off the trail, and they almost succeeded. We are certain that the goal was to keep him off the case, because the killer thought they would go unsolved and they would get away with it. But it was Hardy who convinced us that the two cases were linked even though the details said otherwise. The means and methods were completely different, and it was obvious that the girls did not know each other beyond a few brief conversations. I might not have the experience in tracking murderers that our DI has, but I've been watching the town, the tourists, and I can say with confidence what I'm about to tell you. I _know_ who the killers are. Their mistakes made them easy to pinpoint and I made the arrests myself, this morning."

Exclamations and murmurs burst again, but this time Alec noticed how different they were.

"There is a far more important reason for not naming the victims," Olly interjected, suddenly feeling a need to say something. He knew all eyes were on him. "I was the person who posted on Twitter identifying Danny Latimer as the victim from the case two years ago. I thought I was breaking a story, but what I really did was take away the privacy of the Latimers, deny them the choice on who knew that Danny was dead and when. It's not just to give the investigation a better chance of successfully finding the killer, it's about having respect and compassion for the family. The attention Karen White's article brought onto the Latimers was unnecessary and cruel, and we did not want it to happen to any of the families involved in these cases – whether they're connected to the victims or the killers, or not. The families of the killers also need time to find some way of dealing with the reality of what their relatives have done, and they deserve compassion because they were caught unaware. Under British law, a person is not treated asguilty by association."

As he leaned back, he saw the respect in his uncle and aunt's eyes. Not to mention Maggie's. The thoughtful silence that followed allowed him to notice that the Latimers – especially Chloe – seemed to have finally forgiven him. Although Beth looked a little uncomfortable and did not meet anyone's gaze.

"What about Sandbrook? How does this fit in with their investigation?" one of the women asked.

At last, the meeting was moving beyond Hardy.

"At this point, we can't reveal all of what we know," the Chief Super responded. "The killers and one of the victims has links with Sandbrook. Two further girls were potential targets and we both have links to Sandbrook and to an investigation that is still ongoing. That is all we can say at this point in time."

Nigel could sit still no longer. "What about the girl I found?" he blurted out. "She was your daughter, DI Hardy. Was she a potential target? Where does she fit in?"

Mark tugged him back into his seat, but the words were out now. The hushed crowd waited on baited breath for Hardy to answer.

Hardy was trembling again. This time is was not nerves. "My daughter was a target," he said. He could feel the emotions balloon in his chest. "That was why I could not be on the investigation. Police procedure. But if it hadn't been for the quick thinking of my wife, her team and members of the public, a lot more children would have died." A tear rolled down his cheek. "My daughter included. And very likely my son, as well."

There was a long, stunned, silence.

After what felt like eons, Hardy saw his Chief Super nod. He had one final duty to perform. He took a calming breath, but his voice still wavered unsteadily. "I'd like to thank you all for coming. The Police Liaison Officer will continue to work with the families of the deceased and Broadchurch CID will continue to aid the Metropolitan Police with their investigation. I, again, urge anyone with information to come forward. I'd like to bring this meeting to a close."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	56. Episode 7, Part 6

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Seven. Part Six: Facing The Evidence<strong>

Questioning Tess and Bruce proved worse than difficult. Even when faced with the evidence, they remained silent. Their injuries, their DNA, their car proved they were the people responsible. Bruce remained silent. Tess only spoke to rebuke the one officer that was not involved. Her ex-husband.

Even as officers arrived from Sandbrook to question Bruce about the evidence that pointed to his activities, even as they questioned him about the photograph that had sparked the death of Louise Dusk and the planned attacks on Daisy and Hailey, he refused to speak, even in his own defence. But as further officers arrived to question him about his involvement in the Sandbrook Labs case, which resulted in sixteen hospital deaths and seven cases of paternity resulting from rape, he finally opened up. His own inner anger at being left sterile had moved him to deny others the right to be fathers, out of jealousy.

"It was always expected in my family that you father kids. Nineteenth birthday. I noticed lumps on my balls. Before long I was told I had to have them removed. So I escaped the cancer but was left sterile. Had to leave home because the shame was too strong. So I was angry. Not so sure I wanted kids but I wanted the option. Being left without it... I didn't want others to be fathers. So when I got to be a genecist at a lab that did paternity testing, the opportunity was perfect. Especially when it was a man whose wife I part was, I quickly realised after moving in with Tess and her children that I don't like children. But I was stuck. If I walked away I'd lose her income and lose my contact inside the police. Never mind the stick she would've raised. I didn't need that."

The officers listening just narrowed their eyes, and kept prodding for answers.

/=/=/=/=/

It was several more hours before Tess finally broke.

"What got to me was hearing a witness description of what happened at the hotel the night Ben collapsed," Ellie stated. "I recognised the signs of a heart attack, identical to DI Hardy's condition, and corroborated by the doctor in charge of both his and Ben Hardy's care. It was at that time that I heard about Bruce Stratton's meddling at Sandbrook Labs. Would you like to enlighten me on that?"

Tess went silent, her tirade finally halted.

Ellie pressed on. "I suddenly wondered if the original test for paternity could be trusted. Ben called him Dad in public, he looks like Alec Hardy, he has the same genetically inherited heart condition, one which neither you nor Bruce Stratton have, so it seemed the logical conclusion that someone was covering something up. The order to redo the DNA test was easily obtained because of the accusations the hospital brought forward."

"What accusations?" Tess snapped.

Ellie turned a hard look on her. "Ben has bruises on his arm that look like he has been grabbed far too hard. There are half-healed broken bones and other bruises that indicate he had been kicked, thrown down stairs and pushed over."

"He has infantile MS!" Tess retorted.

"Infantile MS doesn't cause sixteen separate fractures to the ribs, collar bones or to the upper arm; which, before we go any further, was a twist break, caused by someone twisting the limb in what is known as a Chinese Burn. It's the only way to cause such a break. So, let's cut the crap and get to the facts! Your son was being systematically tortured and you were turning a blind eye!"

Tess swallowed dryly and paled.

Ellie knew she had her now. "Add that to he was terrified at the thought of being left alone with the man you call your husband, and Daisy was exhausting herself making sure that didn't happen, and the staff felt obliged to report child abuse to us and the Social Services. The only reason Children's Services didn't swoop in was that I convinced them to quietly investigate instead. I already suspected Bruce might've killed at least one of the girls in our investigation, and I was worried that he would run before I could prove it. What I want to know if how and why a mother would ignore the suffering of her children?"

Tess finally dropped the glare and the pretence. "I didn't know what was going on. I know how it looks and I know you probably don't believe me, but I honestly didn't know. I was lax with Daisy, I know that now. But I was getting so tired of her whining, whining, whining. My belly hurts, my belly hurts, my belly hurts. All the time, every day. I never wanted kids. I admit that. But I never hurt them. I stopped being in love with Alec years ago, when Daisy was first diagnosed with Crohn's Disease. So I stayed with him, for her. Because my parents expected it. He did all her doctor's appointments and hospital visits. He did her medicines. Until he left I didn't realise just how much he did do. And I just couldn't find the time. Crohn's doesn't respond to medication anyway, so I stopped her taking it. I noticed her taking more and more of Ben's time and care on herself and I misunderstood her motives. I thought she was trying to replace me. So I shut her out instead of asking her why. And I turned a blind eye to what she was getting into with the shoplifting and staying out at all hours. But it all came to a head when Daisy said she was meeting friends in Broadchurch. I knew Alec was here, but I didn't know Daisy knew. So I hatched a plan to get him back."

Ellie waited, poised for the confession.

"I wanted to test Alec's skills, show him who the better officer was. He'd pipped me for DI, because he'd got me pregnant with Daisy and left me a year short on service record. I was convinced it on purpose. And then I got pregnant again. I was so sure Ben was his and that he'd left me right in it when he demanded a DNA test. I was shocked and in disbelief when it came back negative. I was sure he'd rigged it somehow. So I was going to get him back, get him accused of murder, get him dropped like a hot potato from the Force. Disgrace him like he'd disgraced me.

"I saw the girl at the bus stop, distracted by a text, I think. I grabbed her phone and chucked it down, grabbed her from behind and stabbed her with a Swiss Army knife I keep in the toolbox in the back of the car. But she struggled, so I had to find another way to kill her. I dragged her to my car and hit her head on the rear door. The latch must had been off or lose because the door opened and hit her again. She was dazed, but she was still struggling," she recalled. "I grabbed her neck and squeezed. And she went limp. I was exhausted. So I folded her up in the back behind the rear seat and shut the door. But it wouldn't shut. I saw her phone lying there and I picked that up and put it in her pocket. I covered her with a travel blanket and shut the door. Took me several tries.

"Later on that night, I took her up to Hardy's place and hid her behind his car, under the hedge. I caught my leg on the bloody gate! I left her there, knowing that she'd be found when Hardy got into his car. He wouldn't have been able to miss her, lying right there. But I was so careful. I was wearing his old shoes, left them on his doorstep and walked backwards down the path to the road, tripped on a bloody tree root.

"I thought I'd got away with it, but almost immediately things began to go wrong. Bruce began to act strangely. Like he was nervous. He said he'd had bad news from back home. I told him he was holiday and it could wait. Then he disappeared for an hour. Came back soaked through. He said there was a leak in the bathroom and he'd had a go at the hotel owner, thinking of suing her for the damage to his clothing. But then the police turned up, and someone was dead and we were all turfed out to that place up on the hill. We were barely there a couple of days before Bruce suddenly decided to go jogging. He hasn't been jogging in months. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, but he said it was fine now. He'd sorted it. I never thought..." She stopped, her chin wobbling. "I never thought he'd do that. And my daughter was next?"

"We have evidence that points to that possibility," Ellie hedged. "Do you know Benis Alec Hardy's son?"

"I do now. Alec told me this morning just before you turned up and arrested me for killing that girl." She wiped her face. "Bruce twisted us both with that one. Alec told me he'd had a vasectomy. But he's had kids since, so how can that be true?"

"Apparently the procedure can reverse itself," Ellie replied. "Did you, at any time, suspect Bruce of murdering two girls?"

Tess shook her head. "No. Not once, not one clue. Ok, so I didn't see him at the times those girls were killed, but I don't follow him about every second of every day." She wept silently for a few seconds, holding her head in one hand. "What happens to my kids?"

Ellie did not reply.

"Please. Tell me. Mother to mother. What happens to my kids, now?"

Ellie felt no such compassion. "You deliberately denied your children access to their father for five years, allowing an abusive tyrant to move in and take advantage of you and the kids. You allowed him to terrorise Ben and Daisy for all that time, uncaring that he knew he was not Ben's father. He was trying to avoid detection. That's why he kept discouraging you from having the record changed, because he knew someone would have exposed him. That, Tess, is why he was cagey about his family's medical history. He knew that if he gave any indication that he was not the father, his foot in the door with you and all you knew about the Sandbrook case would be gone."

"He used me."

"I think it's time you dropped any sense of loyalty for Bruce Stratton, and tell us the truth," Ellie replied. "Children's Services have been called in anyway. The hospital staff have already spoken with my husband about Ben's injuries and a social worker has been in to speak to him. It will help your defence if you tell us exactly what you know, your actions and how complicit you were with Bruce's behaviour."

"I was never complicit!" Tess wailed.

Then Ellie focused a harder glare on her. "You let him do it. You didn't stop him. We have witnesses who have told us about times that prove this. Daisy tried to tell you, but you dismissed her. She even told her father, the one moment he got to speak with her, that she didn't dare leave Ben alone with Bruce. And despite all of your efforts to prevent them from speaking, she got a note to him, in which she expressed the fear that Bruce was going to kill her and Ben, and that you contributed to that fear by not protecting her from those who hurt her, emotionally and physically."

Tess could only shake and sob.

"You're not just facing prison for murder, but also for allowing harm to a child. If we can make abuse stick, we will. As you once said to DI Hardy. When the Sandbrook police come to you this afternoon, I suspect you to also be charged with theft of Crown evidence."

"I never stole anything from evidence."

"You didn't, but you deliberately switched cars with DI Hardy, in an attempt to make it look like _he_ was having the affair and that _he_ was at the hotel the night the Sandbrook pendant was stolen. Am I right or am I right?" Tess, Ellie noted, was sheet white. "Someone was paid to break into your car, at that car park, at that hotel, on that night. Now, why would you have gone to that hotel, with Hardy's car, if not to implicate him in the theft of Pippa Gilespie's pendant?"

Anyone who could see Tess' face would have sworn blind she was on a mortuary slab. She had a reason for her silence now. Ellie had her in a corner. Bruce had suggested the switch. His cousin... "Oh god," she whimpered, a hand to her mouth as her stomach lurched. "Goddy... He turned up just before I got the call to say they'd found the pendant... Oh god... I was set up. They made me an accessory... And Alec took the blame."

Ellie was not sure what amazed her more. That Tess now showed horror over what she had allowed to happen, or that she had made the wrong guess at the hospital. Either way her opinion of the woman as a copper had sunk even further, something she had not thought possible.

Not that she would let her know that. Let her wonder who Hardy's new wife really was, since she never asked and Karen had not bothered to enlighten her.

/=/=/=/=/

In Bruce's interview, resumed after Ellie paused Tess' to let her decide what she wanted to hide, things were even less smooth.

"You're not just facing prison for murder, but also for causing harm to a child."

"What child?" he demanded briskly.

"Ben Hardy," Ellie replied. She cited the same evidence she had mentioned to Tess. "When I finish here and the Sandbrook officers take over, I suspect you to also be charged with theft of Crown evidence."

"What evidence?" he strongly denied. "I never stole nothing!"

"You didn't, but you knew Tess Hardy had deliberately switched cars with DI Hardy on the night she went to the hotel to meet DS Salt. She did that in an attempt to make it look like _he_ was having the affair." There was noting in his expression yet, but she bided her time. "The night the Sandbrook pendent was stolen, someone was paid to break into that car at that car park at that hotel on that night. Does the name Godavari Ghosh mean anything to you?"

Bruce's temple pulsed.

Ellie nodded grimly. "You paid Godavari to break into DI Hardy's car. I don't know if you told her ahead of time, but you wanted to disgrace her then husband, who was the lead investigator. You knew she wouldn't mind if he took the fall to keep his daughter from learning about her mother's affair. We traced the cash payment you got from Trevor Medley to make critical evidence go away. It worked until your aunt moved into a home, and the new occupants found the evidence bag in their new garden shed. Your aunt remembers you visited the same day as the break-in, said you had a bag with you and that you went into the shed, but you didn't went you left. She was used to you coming and leaving things behind, so she assumed you'd come back for it. Oh, don't look so shocked. She became very talkative when she learned that the stolen evidence was hiding on her property the whole time."

"I spoke with her, myself," said the seconding officer, a Sandbrook DS by the name of Grant Norris, his rich Durham accent rounding out the vowels as he spoke. "She was not exactly surprised to learn that you had turned to the wrong side of the law. Said you never really cared for anyone but yourself. That she should have known you were only visiting because you never thought anyone would find it there. You told her you were borrowing a lawn mower. You weren't known for gardening, and you didn't have a lawn, so that one stuck out in her mind."

Bruce managed a choked cough of shock.

"Not that that matters now. Trevor Medley's fingerprints were on the pendent and he's safely tucked up for a long time. Godavari's prints were found on several other items found in that shed and he's now safely tucked up ready for trial on a number of car robberies, besides other crimes. But it wasn't until you found out three innocent girls took a photograph that you decided to take the matter further." He observed Stratton closely. "We already have telephone records between you, Medley and Ghosh. Including one in which you said, and I for the record I am playing back an accidental recording from Bruce Stratton's mobile."

He pressed play on the small device on the table in front of him. Out poured two voices; one distinctly Asian and the other distinctly Bruce Stratton's.

"I told you not to phone directly...! _I had no choice. We've got a problem at the House..._ I couldn't give a monkeys...! _You should. One of the girls got out! Where are you...?_ I'm at the hotel... _What possessed you to go there in the first place? Has she said anything...?_ No, she's not said a word. Suggested we come down to this dead-end dump. I only agreed because her old man's down here... _What will you do if you see him...?_ I'm going to nut him. What do _you_ think...? _But if he recognises you..._ It's his fault Trev's inside... _Yeah, but what do I do about this girl? Should I move the body...?_ Oh for god's sake, do I have to think for you as well? Leave it where it is...! _But it'll begin to stink! Perhaps I should get the boys to move the girls...?_ No, not until I'm in the clear... _You're pretty calm about this. It's Hailey Bridgewater we're talking about here. Do you even remember her...?_ Yeah, some blonde bird... _Yes, she's one I recruited on your request. She's more feisty than the others girls. But the blonde ones are better lookers in the films..._Yeah, ain't they just... _What if she goes to the police...?_ Then kill her if she gets ideas... _Killing is your job! Besides, she is one of Pippa's friends..._ You know what I mean. If she saw something, I'll smack her one myself...! _And Daisy? What about her...?_ I'll deal with her. Down here no one knows her... _Then do it and hurry up. And one of the girls in House 2 is pregnant. Kelly. Do I do her in now, or wait until it starts to show? The thing is, the customers have been asking for her by name..._ You can easily make another five grand on her... _I'm not playing midwife, Bruce. Having kids in here was not part of the deal. It'll drop us right in it with the police...!_ You just stick to your story... _I know the story! I'm not stupid. I have to get after Hailey..._ Yeah, see that you do! I want no witnesses."

The officer pressed stop. "Might interest you to know that this conversation was overheard," he said. "Also, Mr. Ghosh has been very co-operative. Been singing like a canary since his arrest at Weymouth train station. And he has a lot to say about you."

Bruce shook and cried out incoherently.

"The bruises on Ben weren't from you, after all. Were they?" Ellie pressed. "You knew it was going on, but you did nothing to stop Ghosh's abuse. He injured Ben to bully Daisy into the shoplifting and join his gang. But you wanted her for another purpose. Would that be House 1 or House 2? But... it seems circumstances gave Daisy breather space, which is why she was eager to come to Broadchurch. She hoped her dad could act to protect her and Ben."

Bruce exploded in fury, but it never got as far a coherent words.

Ellie nodded grimly. "Daisy's note to her dad confirmed it. Although it didn't tell us everything Godfrey did, she wrote more than enough to get us and Social Services involved, and the medical examination did the rest."

Bruce was sweating now. "Ghosh went too far," he said quietly. "Ben wasn't my son. He was just a means to an end, but I'd never have done that."

"But you didn't stop it," Ellie put in. "That's the point. You _allowed_ a child to be abused."

There was a long pause.

"Shall we move on to the Broadchurch murders?" Grant wondered.

There was another long pause.

"It was not an offer," Ellie snapped.

/=/=/=/=/

"That's all of it," Maggie spoke.

Elaine looked at the huge pile of carefully documented and filed evidence now standing on her desk. This was going to be a logistical nightmare, but from her point of view it was a gold mine. Everything to shine light on and expose Bruce Stratton, Godavari Ghosh and Tess Hardy was in these boxes.

"I even took the liberty of transferring them onto disc," Olly added, holding out a CD.

Elaine almost snatched his hand off. "Does Sandbrook CID know about this?"

"We dropped off a copy on our way down," Maggie replied. "All I can say is, good luck going through it all."

Elaine couldn't quite hide the pained look. "This will get our cases to Court. That's the main thing," she replied. "Justice must and will be served. I can't thank you enough."

"My pleasure," Maggie replied. She frowned. "You seem distracted."

Elaine suppressed a smile. "If there has been one bright spark in all of this, is the baby found on Enoch Grebes' doorstep. I've been in to see him a couple of times. Beautiful baby. And the article your team wrote about him for the Echo was very nice. You have a good team, Maggie. They've done the newspaper and Broadchurch proud in your absence."

/=/=/=/=/

Ellie was eyes-deep in a live demonstration of how SOCO worked. Their meticulous fine tooth-combing was almost like a ballet. A thorough search of the boy's suitcase had turned up nothing, and SOCO had carefully returned everything they had taken out, whilst explaining to her everything they were doing and learning, even though it looked like there were no clues.

"No clues are the biggest clues," Brian continued behind his mask.

Ellie had been relegated to the threshold for this and was glad of that. She had never envisioned herself as SOCO. She had had only one aim when she had signed up - CID. And only because blood made her faint and she never had a penchant for driving over the speed limit. And strictly speaking, beyond her training and her stillborn baby, the only dead body she had ever seen had been Danny Latimer's, until Tom had found the girl.

Brian was giving her a second-by-second account of what they do, how they do it and why, just in case it came up in court. As it often did. He and his seconder had gone through Daisy's suitcase, still full of her stuff, which meant she had not left town nor intended to leave town, so her destination was probably the hospital. On foot. Only she may not have made it if Nigel Carter hadn't found her.

They returned her clothes to her case, noting the number of sanitary packets she had and Ellie ticked that on her list, and Brian took out Tess' suitcase.

"Aha," Brian said quietly.

"What have you found?" Ellie asked.

"It's more what we haven't found," he replied. "There are no shoes. Women always have a suitcase full of shoes. Don't they?"

"Not all of them," Ellie retorted tightly.

"No, but a spare pair, surely? Holiday shoes; flip-flops, sandals? Tess Hardy come on holiday with only one pair of shoes." Brian thought that was odd.

Ellie realised it was an important detail. It probably meant that the shoes they confiscated off her when she was arrested were the shoes they were looking for. They had certainly looked like the right style.

"No sanitary products," he noted. "How old is she?"

"I didn't ask," Ellie recalled. "About forty-two?"

They found an empty bag in the inside pocket, neatly folded despite being one of those bag-in-a-pouch bags. It had Iceland printed on the side, but there was no indication as to what had been in it. So they put it back where they had found it. There was no phone in the suitcase, but there was a charger for an early iphone. Daisy had one, but there was no proof that this was hers.

Brian and his assistant moved on to Bruce's suitcase. The contents were jumbled, unfolded and in a mess. And in short order they found another carrier bag stuffed into an internal pocket, and this one stank. Carefully they opened it and pulled out a badly bloodstained pale blue skirt with a white flower print on it. It was Luiz Gotleib's.

/=/=/=/=/

Brian entered the CID room, trying to hide the skip in his step. Barely a day since the raids and he was in seventh Heaven. CID were busy cataloguing evidence for the various cases. He felt jealous, if he were honest. He only had three silent witnesses to deal with. He'd heard that several properties up in Sandbrook had been dug up, with a total of six bodies to investigate and over twenty-eight rescued girls in interview and return to their families. On second thoughts, he was fine with just the three.

"Ellie, got a minute?"

Ellie looked up from her mound of paperwork. She was drowning in it since her male suspect had been arrested for the Broadchurch murders, arrested for the grooming case, arrested for child abuse, and was now being questioned by Metropolitan Police for his actions at Sandbrook Labs. An arrest for that would not take long, either. Corporate manslaughter cases generally took a year to get to Court, which meant she had to make sure he was already in prison for murder and everything else, first. Never mind the female suspect who had caused just as much grief with her deliberate actions in Broadchurch, and before. She was now being questioned by Metropolitan Police about the abuse and what information Bruce had obtained from her access.

"Not really," she said.

"I think you'll make a minute for this," he said confidently. He held up three evidence bags. One contained a gold chain, another contained a broken half-smoked cigarette and the third contained and an epi-pen found in Bruce's suitcase. He was also holding a photograph of a plant and a few torn leaves.

Ellie stared at them and then at him and shot to her feet.

"A cigarette butt found at the High Street bus stop. We analysed the DNA fragment on the tip; it's a match for Sarah Wallace. We found the missing epi-pen in the bag with the skirt. The skirt and blood are Luiz Gotleib's. We traced the epi-pen's batch number and discovered that it was issued to Louise Dusk. The chain was also found at the bus stop on the High Street and it matches the description of the one DI Hardy gave his daughter. We also found drag marks, foot prints, which match Tess Hardy's shoe, and this delightful seakale plant with its leaves torn off. The tear line matches the leaf fragments we have from Sarah's body. With all this together we can not only confirm the High Street bus stop as the murder scene for Sarah Wallace, we can also prove who killed her and who killed the others."

"Oh Brian! I could bloody kiss you!" she blurted out.

Brian smiled gently as the room fell silent.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	57. Episode 7, Part 7

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Seven, Part Seven: On The Brink<strong>

Daisy gazed at the baby in the bassinette. He was awake and pulling faces, entwining his own fingers while he laid there calmly looking around him. He was dressed in a blue knitted cardigan over a white body suit and blue socks. He had a birth hat on, which didn't quite hide the darkblond hair at the top of his forehead. The rest of his hair was his wrist and ankle were the identity tags, as well as the bulky security tag on his other ankle. On his name tags was written Baby Enoch Daniels, named after the man who found him and the policeman who had responded to the call.

"Can I hold him?" she asked after a long silence.

Her father, standing by the window flinched, though he wasn't sure if that was in response to a thought that she might want to keep her baby, or the thought that she wouldn't.

"You're sure?" the midwife asked kindly.

"I'm not sure," Daisy replied honestly. "I just think it's the right thing to do. He looks very small."

The midwife helped her to position the baby in her arms and Ellie took a picture of them together. But Hardy felt frozen in place. His little girl, the girl he had been forced to leave behind, was now a mother. She had not even finished school yet. How could she have gone through all of that - the rape, the pregnancy and her illness - and not one person notice? In his mind he seethed, but his police training kept it under wraps. He would vent later. Go up to the cliff top and scream at the sea. He would have Ellie hold him for a while, perhaps a long while.

Who would hold Daisy? There had been no decision as yet where she and Ben would go. He was going to fight for custody and would have to fight the Social Services as well, and that could take months. Ben did not have months, and Hardy knew Daisy would not leave his side. There had been talk earlier about placing them with Hardy for the interim, but he was not going to hold his breath. Given how they had dragged their feet and ignored the warning signs and the statements from his ex-wife's mother, he did not think his son would be alive by the time they came to a decision.

"How do you feel?" the key worker assigned to Daisy's case asked. Asema Kumar had been given Daisy's file just that morning after the duty manager had taken it from the duty officers who responded to the emergency.

Hardy liked her. She was nice. Involving Daisy had been her main aim. She gave suggestions and then stepped back to allow Daisy the room to make the decision herself. His daughter was still seventeen, after all, almost eighteen. He could tell Ellie, for all she talked about being done, would not mind another baby in the house. She had had it all worked out in her head; school, college, child care, costs. She had been amazing while he had gone numb from the neck up. He was in two minds. This child had been conceived without consent, or withdubious consent. In his mind it was black and white whenever it was someone else. Adoption, every time. Let the girl grow up first. But this was not someone else. It was his own flesh and blood.

If Daisy brought her baby home, they would cope, but he worried Daisy might come to resent the child. If she placed him up for adoption would someone always be there for him? Would his genes play the heart card? What would happen if, at some point down the line, the adoptive family, if he got one, couldn't care for him? What then? What if he was never adopted? What if he spent the next sixteen years being moved from one foster family to another and resented Daisy for his life being ruined? What if Daisy came to hate herself for giving him away?

Hardy allowed himself a sigh. These questions were not his to ask, in the end. It was her decision and he would support her in either case. His mind turned to Tom's response that morning when he had explained where he and his mother would be that day. For Tom, it was a no-brainer. Daisy and Ben should come and live with them and bring the baby. Hardy tried to explain things objectively, telling him that while he would love to have Daisy back there were legal roadblocks, and to have Ben with him would be a little more complicated. Having the boy adjust to him was one thing, but to suddenly have a new mum and four extra siblings as well has having to deal with his serious heart condition and a progressive disabilitymight actually be too much for Ben to cope with. And say nothing of a newborn baby when they already had two babies in the house. Ellie had only just gone back to work, after all.

Tom had been confused. As far as he was concerned the role of raising a baby was the parent's. Was not it? 'With the dad in prison, wasn't it supposed to be Daisy's responsibility?' It was hard to explain matters of the heart and mind to a boy who had already gone through so much in his short life. He was still bitter and angry at his read father. Hardy and Ellie had not confided in Tom the full nature of the circumstances that had created Enoch, including telling him that it hadn't been any permission or fault of Daisy's. It had been faintly amusing to see Tom puffed up with rage and threatening to punch a man he had never met or knew the name of for hurting his sister. Hardy had commended him for his loyalty and asked him to support Daisy in any way he could to make her feel welcome and comfortable, whether she decided to keep the baby or was lucky to be able to call Tom his son, and Daisy and Ben would benefit from him being in their lives.

And then there was Daisy herself. He could see the confusion on her face, the detachment. Already the social services had found a family able to take Enoch in with a view of adopting him. But Daisy had said nothing for or against. She was still too afraid that the police had missed someone; that a member of the grooming ring had eluded police who would then come after her and Hailey. She had barely slept, calling her dad at all times of the day and night. And this on top.

He felt she was too calm. Daisy and Hailey had acted bravely throughout their ordeal, displaying a collectedness and clarity of mind that was beyond their years. Something had to give. Hailey had her crying release earlier in his arm because he was the only man she felt safe with, and both girls had cried when he took Hailey to see Daisy. It was a matter of time before Daisy followed suit.

And then it came. Daisy broke down in tears. Hardy took a step closer to consol her, but had to hold back. The midwife took the baby back to the crib as the key worker sat Daisy down and talked to her. This was taking all of his willpower to watch and not intervene.

"I don't know," Daisy sobbed. "I want to, but I don't."

Hardy tried to work out what question she was answering.

"I feel like I should try to be a mum, but I don't want to because I didn't want to be a mum. He deserves better than that. And I don't want to be reminded all the time. But I don't want to grow upwondering if he's all right."

"You've spent a long time looking after your little brother. Do you think maybe it's time for you to step back and let your dad and step-mum take over so you can be you?" Aseema asked.

Hardy lifted his eyes to Ellie and could see in her impassive face that utter joy of that. He had no doubt in his mind that she would be a good mum to his kids. And he wanted so much to have Daisy and Ben at home with him. If the baby went to another home he would feel the loss as much as he had felt the loss of Daisy. Perhaps more so.

"Yes, but what would happen to him if I gave him away?" Daisy asked. "Will I be able to see him or find out how he's doing?"

"We can arrange that," Aseema replied. "Open adoptions are the norm these days. So if there's a question about Enoch's heart we can come and ask you, and your family history of heart problems will be on file."

"I just don't want him to be angry with me for what I've done or for giving him away. I don't blame him, but... he looks like Godfrey. And I don't want to see his face every day. It's not fair. Why couldn't he have looked more like me?"

"It upsets you that he reminds you of Godfrey and what happened?"

Daisy nodded. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"No, I don't think it does," Aseema told her. "What happened to you doesn't make you a bad person. It happened _to_ you, not _by_ you. It will take time to heal those feelings, to be able to face those memories, and you have to give yourself that time. Understand?"

Daisy nodded. "But if I give him away, won't he grow up thinking I blamed him for it? I don't want that. He's innocent."

"Yes. He is," Aseema agreed. "What do you feel for him, as he is now?"

Daisy got and approached the baby, now fast asleep. "He looks like my dad," she said.

Hardy almost smiled at that, and turned his head to gaze out of the window until the urge died down.

"Is that anger still there?"

"No. But I think I will miss him when he goes."

"We all feel that. If you give him up for adoption, you will feel grief and disappointed with yourself, and you'll feel like a failure. But all of that is perfectly normal. Equally, if you keep your baby, you'll still feel the same. Grief at your loss of freedom, disappointed that it happened and how you can't do the things you want to do."

"I'm used to that," Daisy told her. "I had my little brother to look after. A baby isn't that different," she countered gently.

"And now you can decide not to," Aseema said. "Now you can do the things other people your age do; you can go out, be yourself, do what you want to do - have parties, stay out late and meet a new boyfriend - and not have to worry about it."

Daisy gazed at her seriously. "Should you be suggesting that with my mum and dad in the room?"

Ellie managed to hide her laugh, Hardy's erupted just a fraction of a second before he could swallow it down. He remained facing the world outside. He relished having to tell his daughter off for any number of those on the list, because it meant he had her back.

Jolt just smiled. "What do you want to do with your life? Have you thought about it? Do you need more time?"

"No, Iwant to do this now. I want to finish my A-levels and go to university or join the police force. Looking after Ben and protecting him I hadn't thought that would be possible before. But when me and Ben go home, I can do anything."

"We will support you in any way we can whatever you decided."

"Without bias?"

"No bias at all. This is about you and what you feel you can do and what you want to do."

Daisy gazed down at the tiny baby for a long minute. She already sent texts to Hailey, Chloe and Beth - whose input was sought since she had been a young mother once - and had long conversations about her options and who would help when where what and how. But they had all told her that the decision was ultimately hers. She had been faced with support from all quarters, but now she had to decide on her own.

/=/=/=/=/

Hardy and Ellie stepped out into the corridor. She stopped in the middle of it while he lowered himself into a wall mounted folding chair, placed for the comfort of patients and visitors alike. It had been a long morning. He had insisted on being here for this, to support his daughter, to show her that he cared and wanted what was best for her.

He had watched her change, dress and feed the baby. Could tell a practiced hand when he saw one. It made him wonder exactly how much Tess had done herself. He recalled with exactness how often she had got up in the night with Daisy. Three. And only because he had been working late at the time. If there had been paternity leave at that time he wouldn't have doubted for a second that Tess would have passed Daisy to him and left him to do it all.

He felt a surge of something akin to anger in his heart, but quashed it. The past was over and done with. He had to move on and put right what he could and be the best dad he could to all of his kids, and face together the consequences of this moment.

"She called me Mum."

Hardy looked up at Ellie and realised he had forgotten the main ingredient in the outcome of all of this. His wife. She had tears in her eyes. Like that first day when they'd met on that beach he still could not walk along. But these tears now were joy, pride and overwhelming love.

He huffed a shocked breath and stood up, wrapped her in his arms and held her. "You can do it," he comforted. "You can do anything. Look what you'd been through, eh? After all the hell of the past two years you can weather anything."

"Yeah," she sniffed. "I married you, after all."

"Ye-well, I meant everything else," he chagrined. He gazed at her with deep affection, feeling his eyes well up. He stroked her jaw line with the backs of his fingers. "Been good, though?"

"Better," she assured him.

They shared a brief kiss.

"Are you ready to be a granddad?"

"No," he said, trying to tug down the corners of his mouth. "Are you ready to be a granny?"

Ellie's face crumpled. "Ugh! Don't call me that," she said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one heard her. "I've got kids who haven't started school yet. How can I be a grandmother?"

They remained quiet for a moment, contemplating that thought.

"Daisy's right, though. He does look like you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and I had a feeling as soon as I saw him I recognised him from somewhere. Poor bugger's got lumbered with your nose."

"Thanks for that."

"You're welcome."

"He might grow up to have your hair."

Ellie frowned. "Mine? How could he possibly have my hair?"

"Transference," Hardy replied.

Ellie gave him a mock glare. "Just be glad we're in public, Alec, or I'd have thumped you one."

Hardy grinned. He looked at his watch. "Case conference in a couple of hours."

"Oh god," Ellie moaned under her breath. "I swore blind when I was a kid I'd steer clear of the social services. Now we have them all over us like a rash."

"Last one. The adjudicator makes a decision today. At least it's not like Crown Court when you could be sitting around for months for sentencing. It'll be over and done with. Daisy and Ben could be home, with us, tonight."

"If we win, we could have three extra kids in the house."

"We'll have to sleep down stairs on the sofa."

"No, I'll sleep on the sofa. You can sleep in the armchair," she corrected.

Hardy sighed dramatically. "It could go either way, and I don't want to move anything around until we know for certain that Ben and Daisy are coming home with us."

Ellie nodded. "And you're not moving anything. I'll call Olly to give me a hand."

"You're not moving furniture," he argued, still keeping his voice low.

"Don't be so sexist."

"Don't be so obstinate."

"Don't be so pig-headed... Knob!"

Hardy laughed. "So, you still call me that. That's nice."

Ellie smiled widely. "Honestly, though, if Daisy decides to keep the baby, are we ready?"

"As ready as we were when you had twins instead of one."

"But we got rid of everything."

"No, I told _you_ I had," he corrected.

"Where did you put all of it?"

"In vacuum-bags under the bed," he admitted.

She opened her mouth to give him a rebuke, but then changed her mind. She was quiet for a second of two. "Knob!" she repeated.

Hardy burst into soft chuckles.

Suddenly the door opened and the social worker stepped out of the room with Daisy.

"Daisy has one request," Aseema announced.

Ellie and Hardy waited, expecting something really huge and momentous, and costly given the look on her face.

"I want to make sure Godfrey and his gang can never find me," she announced.

"I'll do anything and everything in my power to make sure of that," Hardy replied.

"Yeah, but I've thought about it, and I've come to a decision," she continued. "I want to change my name. I want to drop Daisy and be known by Gemma, my middle name."

"We can do that," Hardy replied confidently. "As soon as you're home I'll arrange it."

She lifted her eyes to the social worker, calm and determined, but looking for that extra nudge to say what she needed to say. She turned back and took a deep breath. "And I've made up my mind about the baby."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	58. Episode 7, Part 8

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Seven, Part Eight: Thrown To The Lions<strong>

Daisy sat opposite the Superintendent and theChief Superintendent and felt very small. She kept eyeing the doors, expecting her dad to come in and rescue her. But she knew why he was not here. He could not be here. The rules meant he had to be on the outside, because he was too close to the witness, or in this case the victim. Or maybe they thought he was a suspect?

She found that sick. And stupid. "I want my dad to sit with me. He wasn't there when any of this happened." She'd told them that. Still, rules were rules. And the quicker she got through this, the quicker it would be over. She hoped it would put Bruce Stratton behind bars and she could ensure her little brother was safe. She hoped even more that she and Ben could go and live with their dad. She did not know what was happening yet, but the social workers hadn't been very nice and had not given her much hope either. Except for the key worker who helped at the hospital with the adoption.

Daisy wondered where her mum was, and then decided she had to be locked up in a cell as well. She still could not believe what her mum had done. And she would have been arguing her own denials had Ben not been there when she and Bruce had been arrested. She would have been arguing her mum's innocence had she not seen her go out that night and come back on edge and yet looking smug.

Now it had made sense why her mum had picked Broadchurch for a holiday. Because her dad was here, and she had known all along. Her mum had planned this for weeks. Every detail, every action, pouring over a map of the town. Revenge on her dad. Not that he had ever done anything to her mum. In fact the opposite. Her mum had left him to take the blame for ruining a murder case, when it had been her mum's doing. Meeting up for sex in a hotel with another man. Another policeman.

Daisy swallowed hard. She had lost all respect for her mum. She hated her. She realised that it could have been her Tess had bumped off. It would have hurt her dad so much more if she had. And she would not call her mum anymore. It felt wrong. She wanted to call Ellie Mum from now on, but that would be decided at visits and case conferences and courts, by strangers.

Right now, she did not have a mum. She did not even have a dad, either. She had a brother, and only because she had kicked up such a row that they had relented and let her stay with Ben. Normally she would have been thrown out, sent to a girl's hostel and forgotten. While her brother slowly died.

And here she was, in front of her dad's boss. She felt twelve years old again, being questioned about her friend, Pippa. Like she had had something to with it. Pippa's name had not been said that much, but she had guessed that her friend had died. She had not turned up that day when they had planned to go to town. And she had never replied to her letters. Daisy had once gone around to Pippa's house to talk to her, only to have Mrs. Gilespie slam the door in her face. She had never done that to her before. It was like she blamed her for Pippa's death.

Mrs. Gilespie had moved house after that and a new family had moved in, but the feelings had remained. No one had even asked Daisy how she felt. Not even her own mum. And that Bruce bloke – she hated him. Even now that she had worked out when Ben had been injured and Bruce hadn't been the one to do it, she still hated him.

Daisy took a deep breath. It was time to talk. The policewoman was stern and uncompromising. She never smiled. Her eyes looked like brick walls; hard and unfeeling. "Where shall I start?"

"From the beginning," she said.

"The beginning of what? When we got to Broadchurch?"

"Not yet. We'll come to that later. I'd like to hear about you and Pippa Gilespie."

So Daisy told her everything. About playgroup and primary school and her other friends. The four of them. Now just two. She talked about Pippa's death, what she had known about it. She talked about what the newspapers had been saying about her dad. She talked about her mum and her new baby brother and her dad leaving.

"My mum said my dad had been having an affair with someone called Angela Nesbit. I'd met her a few times. She was a policewoman with the same uniform you have."

"Chief Superintendent Angela Nesbit of Sandbrook police station?"

"Yes," Daisy confirmed. "I didn't believe her, but mum told me not to talk about it. She said it was just going to her, me and my little brother after that. But she broke that promise, coz Bruce Stratton moved in a couple of days later. Then everything changed. He changed the rules, he ordered me about. And he picked on my baby brother all the time. Told mum when to feed him and when to change him. He was a bully."

"Did he ever hit your brother?"

"I never saw him hit Ben," she replied. "But I'd see bruises on him. When Ben was two he used to say 'clumsy', all the time. Bruce said he was stupid because he'd fall over all the time. He learned to walk late. I'd have a go at him and he'd slap me and tell me to go to my room and mind my own business. I told him he can't boss me about, he's not my dad. My mum would tell me off for being disrespectful to the man of the house. I didn't want him as the man of the house. No one had even asked me. I called my dad and he came over. It was my thirteenth birthday. Bruce answered the door and told him to f-off and said he had no right to be there. He said that my dad's kids were now his kids and he should just suck it up and get lost. I've never seen my dad so angry. Anyway, my mum told him to get out of the way and let my dad speak to me. But she didn't let him in the house. We had to talk on the doorstep. He gave her a locket for my birthday. A magnetic one in two halves. Parted but never forgotten. He said we could keep a picture in each half and they would be like us. He'd had a friend make it for him."

"Who made it?"

"Samson, the Gold Smith on Penton Row, just off the High Street in Sandbrook. He and my dad went to school together."

It was written down and recorded and the policewoman asked her to continue.

"I wore the locket all the time, but not for school. I was afraid it would get stolen, so I kept it in a draw in my bedroom. And then I got home from school one day and found out someone had been through all my stuff. My room was a mess. My mum got home from work and saw my room and she was livid. She had a go at me. I told her I hadn't done it. Someone else had. She told me to stop being such a liar and to clean up the mess. That's when I found the picture of my dad. Someone had taken it out of the locket and torn it up. It was the only one I had. I went to my mum and cried as I told her. She just snatched it off me and threw it in the bin. She told me that my dad had given me that to buy my silence. I didn't know what she meant. Then she took my phone off me, said I wasn't to call my dad any more because he was a bad influence on me."

"Who old were you at this point?"

"It was just after my thirteenth birthday," Daisy explained.

"When you were diagnosed with Crohn's Disease?"

"No. I was told I had that when I was six. I used to have medicine for it, but my mum stopped going to the doctor's for the prescription. She said it was too far out of her way to go and get it. And I got arthritis with it as well, but Bruce just said it was me being a hypochrondriac. Mum got me normal pain killers, but they didn't help and they didn't help with the arthritis."

"Did you go to the doctor's by yourself?"

"I wasn't allowed. The receptionist told me I had to go with a parent, unless it was for contraceptives," Daisy replied.

"Tell me about your boyfriend," the Chief Super said. "Where did you meet?"

"He was a friend of Bruce's. He'd come round sometimes and get blind drunk. He'd keep us, me and Ben, awake all night, celebrating the football or sometimes no reason at all. I liked him, even though he was a bit of a lout."

"What do you mean by 'lout'?"

Daisy shrugged. "He was daring. He'd break into cars sometimes and take stuff. And he'd never get caught. He could break into a house without leaving any sign of a break-in. I thought it was clever at first. He had a gang, everyone was in it. He told me I was beautiful, but could be better. He said if I stole something I'd be in the gang. I'd be cool and people would like me. I knew it was wrong and I told him I didn't want to do it. He said if I didn't, Bruce would kill Ben. And Ben would always be getting more and more bruises the longer I took to do it. So I did it. I went to Stationary Box and nicked a load of stuff. I was caught the second time, but they couldn't find anything on me and had to let me go. I nicked some food from Greggs as well. By the time they caught up with me I'd already thrown the wrappers away and the CCTV camera was broken, so they had no proof."

"What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Godfrey Ghosh," Daisy replied.

"Describe him for me."

Daisy shrugged. "Asian, I think. He doesn't talk about it much. I thought he was seventeen, but I found out later he was a lot older than that. I think he's actually twenty-six. He has a big family and lots of friends. I wanted to be like him, always smiling and joking about. Sometimes when he was taking me out on a date, he'd introduce me to his mates and cousins. And they'd say I was really pretty and they liked my long hair. I felt a bit intimidated, actually, because they kept looking at me like I was an animal at a market or something, saying I had a nice figure and nice boobs. Godfrey would chid them a bit to leave me alone. Said I wasn't old enough for that kind of talk. He protected me. I felt like I was important and liked. And he had loads of female friends as well. He was really popular. All the things I wasn't. I told him, too. He said I was young and it would all come to me as I grew up. He said he could teach me, show me how to be grown up. We had sex while my mum and Bruce were out."

"How old were you at this time?"

"Fourteen, that first time," she admitted awkwardly. "I told him we shouldn't coz he might get into trouble. I wasn't sixteen. He said as long as I wanted to and he didn't hurt me it was ok."

"And you had sex often?"

"Yes," she admitted without hesitation. "He said as long as I remained faithful to him and the gang he would help me keep Ben safe. I asked him if he was two-timing me. And he got angry then, said it was none of my business to ask him that. He said where he comes from men always have more than one woman, and it's not cheating if they know about it. He said he's had other girlfriends, but he didn't say who or how many. I later found out he had been seeing some of my friends."

"Tell us about that?"

"I was invited to a party. It was my sixteenth birthday and Godfrey has set it all up at his mate's house. But when I got there I recognised the house and refused to go in."

"Why was that?"

"Because it was Bruce's old house. When he moved in with us he'd rented it out to a friend. The place was always full of people and it stank of weed. I told Godfrey I didn't want to go in there. He got really angry and told me if I didn't go in the party would be ruined. He said he'd put a lot of effort into it. I felt really bad, but I told him I needed to go home and take my medicine. He took me home and had sex with me. I didn't want sex. I kept telling him no. I tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. He said I was just nervous about getting caught coz my mum was downstairs. I told him I'd go to the police and tell them he raped me coz I didn't give him consent. He told me I was stupid, coz we were boyfriend and girlfriend and we had had sex loads of times so they would think I was just being stupid and dragging out an argument. He said the police would just laugh at me, coz people in a relationship meant there was implied consent." She was silent for a moment. "I think that's when I fell pregnant."

"You knew you were pregnant?"

"Yes. But I hid it. I was afraid someone would notice. Crohn's makes my belly swell so I just went with that. I was sort of relieved when my mum said we were going on holiday. I knew the baby was about due. So I thought if I could have the baby while on holiday, and then go home, no one would know it was mine."

"Tell me what happened the night you had the baby."

"I was at the hospital with my mum and Ben and I started getting pains. I'd had them on and off for days, but they were suddenly really strong. I told mum I was having period pain and I told her I was going back to the hotel for my tablets and a lie down. I left the hospital and went down the road, but the pain was getting worse. So I left the main road and went up this hill. It was really dark and there was only one street light. There was an old bus stop there. I couldn't walk any further. So I just squatted down and pushed it out. It was really odd, coz I'd heard people they screamed blue murder when they had babies, but I didn't. I felt really proud of myself for not screaming, and then it hit me. I had the baby in my hands. I couldn't take it back to hotel. I thought someone might think I'd taken it. So I wrapped it up. I had this play blanket from the Children's ward - me and Ben had been playing doctors and nurses earlier. I left it on the nearest doorstep. And then I saw police lights and I hid. I went through the hedge at the back of the bungalow and through the woods. I crossed the old railway line and into the hospital car park. I felt really faint and light-headed. I went back to the hotel after that."

"Were you aware that the cord had snapped or that the placenta was still inside you?"

"No. I never thought about it. Not until I woke up from the operation and the doctor told me what they'd done." Daisy looked at the hands in her lap and was quiet for a long time.

"Did you see Godfrey again, after the rape?"

"I didn't see him for two months," Daisy said. "Then he came back, climbed up on the garage roof to get in my bedroom window. He said he was sorry. He said he was just angry before and should have been nicer to me, more understanding. He didn't say where he'd been, just said there was some trouble. I didn't dare tell him I was pregnant. He had sex with me again and I fell asleep. He was gone in the morning." She was quiet for a moment. "Then I'd heard he'd been in prison for a month and had escaped. He was arrested that morning."

"Why did you not go to the police?"

Daisy glanced uneasily towards the door, wishing her dad would turn up and help her get through this. "Ben fell down the stairs and I saw Bruce standing at the top. He warned me that if I went to the police I'd be next and it wouldn't be 'clumsy me' anymore. It would be a six-foot hole and a wooden box. And then Mum said we were going on holiday. I heard her and Bruce arguing. She threatened to go without him, just take us, me and Ben, and go to Broadchurch. Bruce got angry, demanded to know why she wanted to go where her ex was, accused her of trying to leave him and go back to my dad. She called him stupid and said she'd picked Broadchurch coz she was going to get back at my dad, not back _with_ him. She said she was going to give my dad a trial he'd never forget."

**ĐĐ**

**End of Episode**

**On to Episode Eight...**


	59. Episode 8, Part 1

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain no financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tardis:<strong> Count the adverts. It all started with me writing Life Without Joe (blowing my own trumpet). The title does not say why Joe was not there, whether he had died or walked out. It was just that he was no long there. No clue, no hint, no spoiler, no Joe. And just in case anyone else caught on before I did – episode four – that it was Joe I had to watch from a play back site because I was first burying my mum and then moving, so I actually missed episodes 2-7 until just days before the finale. My deepest thanks to bas_math_girl who saved me from being "spoilered". And, sorry, tkel, but it was not the BBC. It was ITV that made and broadcast the original. The BBC can only wish.

I got this idea after watching the original for the however-many time it was. I'd gone out to HMV to find a copy of The Politician's Wife and on the off-chance asked them if they had a copy of Broadchruch. As it happened the delivery had just arrived. I had the first copy out of the box at HMV Cardiff. There. Selfless advertising. And the Beeb still loses out. So I sat and watched it and thought I wonder what happens next? I've lived in hotels. I've been in a similar situation as Tom (and Ellie, actually, but that's neither here nor there), and I know there had to be more. Life would not have been cosy for Ellie.

So I wrote it.

LWJ was the result. And my readers liked it. Tkel refused to read it. And I fully understand and support her reasons.

However, within days of finishing and posting it I got another idea. I sat on it for months while tkel waited for the DVD, and by that time the plot bunny had stewed itself into a balrog (another plug, this one's LOTR). Tkel was busy. I was in Preston for the long awaited arrival of my first 'born in Britain'; grandchild. I have been busy looking after him and my daughter and fighting for justice for my son-in-law that the Balrog sat forgotten in a dark room on my data pen for a year. Date of starting: September 22 2013. I had a brief outline and a few notes. I basically picked at it for a year until both tkel and I were ready to put in the time and effort.

November 1 2014. One month turned into three weeks, and over 285400 words later we had a first draft. Chris Chibnall may own the copyrights and I bet his sequel is brilliant, **LOOK AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILERED! **but he doesn't have a murder. Read it and weep, Chris, my friend. Mine does. *Taggart voice* There's been a murder!

This has been a phenomenal achievement for both of us. Neither of us has done anything like this before. Working with a co-writer is not recommended for everyone. It takes a lot of patience, stamina – I had to sprint to keep up – and a strong willingness to share. I hate sharing. :D

This is going to hurt. Have tissues at the ready. I don't pull punches. Those who know my work know I have plot twists and unexpected clues, and if you miss them you'll be left behind. Make notes. You'll need them.

This is based on Chris Chibnall's Broadchurch, and a few details from the novelisation by Erin Kelly (another shameless advert), with the addition of some aspects of LWJ. If you haven't seen Broadchurch, why are you reading this first? Go away and do so, otherwise this will make no sense whatsoever. If you haven't read the novel, don't worry. I have, and you can take or leave it. It has some minor flaws and mistakes, but it is a good read. You'll find my review on Goodreads (another shameless advert) website.

Tkel and I half thought about including our own map, since the blatant error in Erin's was the mistake you'd expect from a small child. Beth's and Ellie's houses are across a field and they can see each other's kitchens; it was mentioned in the original and in the book. So I'm scratching my head trying to work out why Erin's map put them practically back to back, separated by a row of houses.

But, anyway, advertisements aside (Did you count them? There are seven.), I hope you like Sins Of The Father. We've kept it in the same style as the original eight episode format, but each one will have a different number of chapters. Hopefully, they will all be posted by the time ITV airs the sequel. Though try not to compare. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors' Notes: tkel:<strong> Being an American with not a lot of time on her hands to learn the tricks for getting things early from the other side of the pond, I had to wait to see Broadchurch. So I had months of reading about how good it was and how amazing David Tennant's performance was. It was more than a bit frustrating, but I give the people on my friends list credit for not spoiling anything other than Hardy's having a medical condition and one other detail. During the wait I noticed my friend Moley post a Broadchurch fanfic. Well, I did not read it. I even made a point of trying to forget I even saw one was posted. Finally the series came to BBC America, although I did not know that about two hours worth of material was cut to make room for the commercials. I was pissed off when I heard that, and promptly decided that where productions with Tennant were concerned, I would buy Region 2 only. (I had learned that computers can be manipulated to act like an all regions playing DVD player, although as of when I wrote the original note I had not yet figured it out. Trust me, I will learn soon enough.)

I was in awe from the first episode. A great cast, a heartbreaking case, and I was trying to figure out who did it almost immediately. Some I figured were unlikely, or would not be the killer without more plot twists. By the end of Episode Seven, I had a sinking suspicion who the killer was. It did not help that my memory chose then to recall what it thought was the title of Moley's fic. But I waited until the final moments had aired, and was in a bit of emotional turmoil. (Which I think we were supposed to be.) At that point, I got on Live Journal and read all five posts of Moley's fic, pausing only to comment. I needed more time to digest it fully, but I had reread it about four times by the next evening.

The thing is, my muse is the type to get ideas at the drop of a hat sometimes. Sometimes no hat, as Moley has reminded me. (giggles) Often when I am trying to work on other things. Bonzina (what I call my Muse) instantly thought about what might happen afterward, thinking about the unresolved things still there from the original story. She had thought of a plot bunny that had me intrigued. So I emailed Moley with the idea, having no idea that it would prove to be the platform for an idea that had been languishing since Life Without Joe was finished, and we bounced it back and forth – like you do when you beta read each other's work. I don't think we'd emailed about it for more than a day before it transformed into a plot balrog. (For those of you who aren't Tolkien fans, that's a giant creature of shadow and flame, "a demon from the ancient world" to quote Gandalf from the movie version of "Fellowship". Practically impossible to get rid of, as the movie showed.) Basically, it wasn't going to leave either of us alone by then, so we agreed to work on it together as soon as we could both make the time for it. Meanwhile we bounced more ideas back and forth until we had our first outline ready.

Well, although we did a lot of preplanning, we didn't get to writing until I mentioned I was thinking about what to do for NaNoWriMo 2014. Moley noted about Broadchurch 2 being filmed, and we agreed that we should get our balrog finished and fully posted before the first episode airs on ITV. And I was also working on another mystery story at the same time. Only thing is, on that story I had trouble with the outline, and stalled on it in a big way learning why my writer friends gave me the advice they did the hard way as my muse was insistent on trying something different. So I got way ahead on my parts of the story, but I used it to figure out enough so I could resume writing the other story. Even though it may never see the light of day, depending on what I think of it in the end.

Of course, I was very busy. Moved to a new city, started a new job that now means I have a profession, and had to focus on settling in. But I had managed enough that I could do NaNo once again. Although I'm still stalled on that one other story, I know one of the things I need to do with it. I also wrote a few other things, including a Christmas present for another friend – on a dare from said friend. So my grand NaNoWriMo total for 2014? 124,977. Yes. That's correct. And yet someone else managed just over 150,000. You'd better believe I intend to beat that next year.

So that's my side of the story. There will be another Broadchurch collaboration, based off an idea I had from working on this story. Stay tuned about that one. Or maybe... more than one, given that Moley and I seem to be off in slightly different directions for that one. (grins) This was a fun project, and I hope that Moley and I find additional ones to work on together. Not counting the beta reading we already do, or the times when I was utterly stuck on a story and needed more than prodding but wholesale suggestions to get it moving again. (bigger grin)

* * *

><p><em>Summertime. Outdoors. Four girls played together in a garden, giggling as small children do. No cares of the world touched them, or if they did they pretended they did not exist.<em>

_There was an undercurrent of sadness. They all knew they would part ways, but no one knew just when they would see each other again. But it was the birthday of one of them, and so they could forget about most troubles for the time being._

/=/=/=/

_Another summer. The air was pleasant, but there was a hint of tension. Mostly in the adults watching._

_Three slightly older girls sat on a beech making a sandcastle. They shaped it in honour of the fourth who did not come, looking up at each sometimes in wonder of why they had not heard from their friend._

/=/=/=/

_Two young teenage girls walking together in a busy street, shopping. They tried to laugh, but the aura around them was oppressive. Especially on the taller one. A great weight was hanging on her shoulders, but the haunted look had purchase in the shorter one._

/=/=/=/=/

_Darkness surrounded the area. The moon's light barely shone through the clouds._

_A girl stepped into the light of an open window. She kept low, trying to be invisible. She glanced up at the moon, her face that of the shorter of the teenagers. But her formerly honey-blonde hair had been dyed black. Her face was pale even for the light out, and her whole being spoke of knowing a terror unspeakable._

_She looked and listened, closing the window before she repeated the listening. Then she fled into the shadows, as quietly as she could._

/=/=/=/

_Under the same moonlight and yet slightly different clouds angled overhead a sixteen year-old girl stood alone, partly in shadow, leaning against a brick-built bus shelter with the sound of the ocean not far away. It was the taller of the girls. Her long hair fell in waves about her shoulders and at her throat hung a locket that rested against her t-shirt. It was old, as old as she felt. She bore herself as one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She closed her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, silhouetted against the light of an opening door behind her._

_In the distance the echoing cry of a newborn child broke the silence of the night._

/=/=/=/=/

**Episode Eight, Part One: Holding Her Own**

"What did she mean by that?" Superintendent Sandra O'Malley asked. She didn't quite have the gentle tone with interviews as he superior officer did. As far as she was concerned all interviews in these rooms were with suspects, it was few and far between that you had someone in here as a witness and yet being recorded. At this point, Daisy Hardy had committed no crime, beyond those already punished. She was doing well, so far. But she knew her more experienced Chief Super would call a halt if she felt Daisy had had enough, and possible long before the social worker acting as loco parentis even noticed.

"I don't know," Daisy replied. "I thought she meant Ben. She always said that Ben was his son, but when I spoke to my dad at the hospital the other day he said Ben wasn't his. I worked it out. It wasn't my dad who had had the affair, it was my mum. And I realised it couldn't have been Dad who was at that hotel and had his car broken into, because he was with me that day, he had driven Mum's car up to Gran's house. Mum was supposed to have taken dad's car into the garage for new tyres and used one of the station's cars as a replacement. She didn't... did she? Cos I saw it in the papers. My dad took the blame for being at the hotel and for having his car broken into. Even my gran tried to tell them, but the policeman wouldn't listen. Said the case was closed. Bruce stopped me seeing my gran; called her an interfering old cow. I haven't seen her since I was thirteen, after I told her about my dad being sent away."

"Tell us about your holiday," the Super suggested.

Daisy shrugged. "It started off nice enough. Bruce got into some trouble at work, called them all lying assholes. But I didn't believe him."

"Why not?"

"Coz... the day before we left, I saw Hailey. My friend. She'd disappeared months before. They all said she had gone to work on a farm. But then I saw her mentioned on the news as missing. Bruce made some ugly comments about her, said she was a whore and that she'd run off with a Paki. Sorry. I know it's a bad word, but that's what he said."

"What did Hailey say to you?"

"She said she'd been asked to go to a party with Godavari, her boyfriend, and got locked inside a house on West Street with the pink door. I knew instantly which house she meant. It was Bruce's house. It's the only one with a pink door. And I'd heard of Godavari. Bruce talked about him and to him on the phone."

"You've been in Bruce's house?"

"Yeah, years before when Bruce was moving in."

"Tell me about the house."

"I only went there once," Daisy defended. "There wasn't much stuff. Later I heard rumours. They say girls go in there and they never come out. Hailey said she'd been locked in there for months. She'd escaped while they weren't looking. She was supposed to meet me for our holiday in Broadchurch and Lousie was coming over from Germany. She said she'd have to get there another way because Godavari was looking for her. I gave her some clothes, my holiday money and told her to get there somehow. I told her my dad was in Broadchurch somewhere. Mum said he'd moved there to convalesce after his breakdown."

"Breakdown?"

"Yeah, Mum said he had had a mental breakdown. It's a sort of mental thing. Isn't it? Mum didn't say and I didn't believeher; by that time I didn't believe anything she said anymore. Anyway, I told Hailey to meet me in Broadchurch and we'd find my dad and we'd tell him everything. But Mum had taken my phone off me so I couldn't call him to tell him I was coming. And Mum and Bruce had me watched every second. Told me not to speak to people she didn't know. Which is stupid, because she didn't know anyone. And then I met Chloe."

"What do you know about the murders of Sarah Wallace and Luiz Gotleib?"

"Nothing," Daisy replied. "I saw my mum go out that night, the first night we were in Broadchurch, and she came back a couple of hours later, with a nasty cut to her leg and shaking. I heard her throwing up in the bathroom. I asked her if she was ok, and she snapped at me. Told me to go back to sleep. Later she said she'd gone for a walk to clear her head, but had fallen over and almost fell over the cliff. She said she was a bit shaken by it. She said it was a bit of a stupid thing to do anyway. She put a dressing on her leg and went to bed. But she didn't have her bag."

"What bag?"

"She'd gone out with a cloth bag, like one of those bag-in-a-bag things that you fold up and put in your pocket. I don't know what was in it, but she didn't have it when she got back."

"What colour was it?"

"Red with Iceland written on it in white letters down the side and 'use me again and again' along he bottom."

"And what about Luiz Gotleib? What can you tell me about her?"

"Nothing much, really. I smiled and waved at Sarah when she arrived, but the German girl was really shy. It first I thought it was my friend, but she looked at me as if she didn't know me. And then I realised it wasn't my friend, because my friend didn't have two brothers."

"Did you see your friend, Louise, when she arrived at the hotel?"

"No, we'd been told to take a room at the bed and breakfast," Daisy replied. "I didn't hear anything about Louise arriving. I knew she was late. And my mum explained that sometimes planes were delayed. She was nice to me for a change."

"Where was Bruce?"

"He'd gone out jogging. He likes to keep fit and works out a lot."

"When did he leave?"

"About a quarter to seven. He said he would be back for breakfast and said we should start without him."

"When did he get back?"

"I don't know," Daisy admitted. "Just before we left for the beach. Probably about nine, I think. Half way down the hill my stomach was hurting so I went back for my tablets. Mum was cross and said to join them as soon as I could. When I got back to the Bed and Breakfast there was a crowd of people outside. I paid no attention to it. We got crowds like that at school, with people shouting. I thought it was just someone having a fight and ignored it. I saw an ambulance arrive as I left. I knew it had to have been a pretty bad fight if someone had been hurt that much. After a couple of hours at the beach, Bruce got really curious about what those sirens were near the Bed and Breakfast. We could see them from the beech. Mum decided we'd have lunch in the restaurant next door, so we went back to the B&B. The owner saw us coming and told us that something dreadful had happened. A girl had fallen from the footpath behind the B&B and died and would we mind if we returned to the hotel. The woman from the Traders' had already sent word saying we could return. So we packed our things and returned to the Traders'."

"When did you find out what had happened, that is was your friend who had died?"

"When the policewoman asked me some questions the following day," Daisy revealed. "She said she was sorry that I hadn't been told. She had come to ask me about other stuff and she told me about Louise. Louise was allergic to plants. She wouldn't have gone into those bushes deliberately. Did she really fall?"

The Chief Super was silent for a second or two. "We can't say at this point," she said gently. "What happened after you returned to the Traders' Hotel?"

"We went out to the arcades. My mum spent loads on the grabber machine and won a Minion for Ben. We had chips from the Buoy Chippie. I didn't like them. They were oily and cold. I preferred the ones from down on the Esplanade. They were always really hot and soft. Even the small bits weren't too crunchy. Ben said the chips hurt as they went down. Bruce called him stupid for not chewing his food properly. Ben got tired and Bruce kept all on at him, said he was a being a baby. He forced him to go on the dodgem cars and the merry-go-round. Mum eventually said enough was enough. She couldn't take any more grizzling form Ben. We went back to the hotel for dinner and that's when Ben collapsed."

"Your brother was taken to hospital?"

"Yes, by ambulance. The woman from the hotel looked really angry with us, like she thought we were going to get her into trouble. When I got back from the hospital she demanded to know if my dad was going to sue her for making my brother sick. I was angry. I told her that Bruce was not my dad, and Ben had had a heart attack, thanks for asking. I thought she was rude. I don't like her. She didn't even ask if my brother was all right. She was more concerned about how it looked on her to have a customer collapse in her restaurant. That's just mean."

"Back to the hospital," the policewoman suggested.

"Sorry, yeah. Uhm, thedoctor asked if there was any family history of heart disease and my mum said no. She looked at Bruce and he ignored the questions until the doctor got a bit uppity. He said it was none of his business what his family medical history was. He said the priority was the boy. Like Ben didn't have a name. He'd never called Ben by his name. He'd even smacked him around the head once for calling him Daddy when he was three. The nurses found Ben had loads of bruises and told my parents to step outside. I was taken to one room and they were taken somewhere else. They said someone would come and talk to me, but no one came so I went back to sit with my brother. My parents came back, said they'd explained the Ben's a bit clumsy, that he had this condition called MS, and it was all sorted. Ben was on a machine to help him breathe by then and Mum and Bruce had an argument. The nurse told us all to leave and get some sleep and come back later. And then I saw my dad in the waiting room downstairs. He told me Ben wasn't his and that my mum had had the affair, not him. I was so angry, but I didn't want to shout at him. I wanted to tell him what had been going on, but Bruce was watching from outside the doors. Chloe was at the hotel when we got back and we had a photo-sharing binge. Finally I could be me, with a friend. I've met up with her a few times and we talk about music and party fails and school. That's about it."

"You're missing a large chunk of the story out," the policewoman noticed.

Daisy paled. She knew which large chunk she was talking about. "I was getting pains," she admitted at length.

"When did that start?"

"A couple of days before, on and off. I told Mum it was my period. At the hospital, when Ben was asleep I told Mum it was getting worse and I'd go back to the hotel and go to bed. She didn't think I knew the way. I told her I had google maps on my phone so she gave it to me and told me to text her when I got there. I stopped off at this garage shop and got some pads. The bloke was talking to this woman, chatting her up, so I just took them. And I've told you what happened after that. I think I passed out at some point, I dunno. I'm not sure. I was just sort of numb. Ifelt better, coz I thought no one will know it'll be adopted and no one will ever know. I went back to the hotel. Had a shower and went to bed. My belly was still very sore, but I could see my feet. I thought I'd got away with it. I thought now if anyone asks me if I'm pregnant I can say no without lying. But I knew something was wrong. I was bleeding loads and put two pads on, but they were soaked through in half an hour. I changed them for another two pads. There were so many I hid them under other bags. And then that man came in and gave me a fright."

"What man?"

"Dunno. Just some bloke. He said I was in danger if I stayed, because _he_ was coming to get me. He said I knew who it was and that _he_ had already killed my friend. He said Chloe knows. He said I had to make a run for it before _he_ got back."

"Did he say any names?"

"No, but I know who he meant. He mentioned that I'd end up locked in the house on West Street if I stayed, or under a bush like Louise. I thought he was one of Bruce's mates. I thought he was threatening me. So I soon as I got away from him I realised he didn't seem to follow me."

"Where did you go?"

"There was a cabin up on the cliffs. I got in through an open window and hid until I heard noises. Then I went back toward the hotel. I nearly passed out then. And when I came round, that bloke who helped Chloe's dad had found me. I didn't want to go to the hospital like that, but I was so out of it that I let him take me."

"You do know that he probably saved your life?"

"I know that now," she whispered.

"Did Bruce ever talk about the other houses he owned?"

"No."

"Did he talk about other women or girls?"

"No, not openly."

"Can you explain?"

"Sometimes he'd get phone calls that made him angry. He'd say words like 'butter her up' and 'shower her with gifts' and stuff, and 'tell her parents she's been offered a job modelling'. He'd type them out himself with proper headed paper. I've seen some of them in the garage. Whenever he had a phone call about something else it would turn nasty. He had a call once not long ago and he told the man to 'bury her'. I tried to tell my mum, but I could never get her on her own, not without leaving Ben on his own with Bruce."

"Have you heard the phrase 'grooming' before?"

Daisy was stunned into silence. "I'd heard about it at school, but... is that what they were doing? But Godfrey was my boyfriend."

"But you are aware that Godfrey and Godavari are one and the same person," the Super said.

"What? No!" Daisy frowned in defiance. "Hailey said her boyfriend was the Middle East. Godfrey isn't Middle Eastern. He comes from Sri Lanka. Just because they have the same last name..." Her eyes watered. "They could be," she supposed softly.

"Do you know many of the people in the gang?"

"Some of them. I know where a few of them live and where they hang out."

"Do they all have girlfriends?"

"Well, yeah. They're all popular, like Godfrey. There's one, Hash Abdullah. He always had a two or three with him every time I see him. Always different girls. Mostly younger than me. Girls of twelve and thirteen, wearing more makeup than my mum does. Acting like they're eighteen. Hash isn't stupid, he knows how young they are, but he doesn't care. He says he picks them up, looks after them and takes them home, keeps them safe." Daisy turned pale. "Oh. They're all grooming... Aren't they?"

"Tell me as many names and addresses as you can, please."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	60. Episode 8, Part 2

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Eight<strong>**,**** Part Two: Moving Forward**

It was a sombre morning at the Hardy-Miller home. There was little sign that it was the twins' first birthday, little sign if Tom going back to school and little sign of anything else joyful, but Ellie was determined to make this as normal as possible.

Ellie monitored as Tom cooked cheese on toast for his siblings, but her mind was on other things. Her cases had been passed to the Crown Prosecution Service and she was left with the wait for court appearances. Though they would be long after she was told about the dates for said appearances. Court was a long process. Even as a police officer, the time taken to do anything seemed as confusing as unbearably long. Family Court was much less formal and much less time consuming. Despite that, it was still nerve-wracking. It had already been postponed twice, bothtimes without explanation.

She did not dare look at her husband, who had been trying to force coffee down his constricted throat just half an hour before and had retreated back upstairs to get dressed. She knew he was feeling twice as bad as she was. Today was the first of their court battles. The way their Children's Services case worker explained it, it looked like they could be facing several, in at least two courts, and the lawyer for the legal side was not looking hopeful either.

Fred was watching over Harry and Catherine, as he liked to do. He liked to sing them songs and read to them from his books. This morning it was Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, an old favourite. It had once been Tom's book. Tom's name had been crossed off and Fred's written underneath. Fred felt very proud of his hand-me-downs.

"It's ready," Tom said, plating some food. "Where is he?"

"Right here."

Hardy's voice went ahead of him as he stepped downstairs. He had put on his best suit and tie, got his hair and beard trimmed, and was plainly gearing himself up mentally for the day ahead. He looked a lot better now than his first attempt - dressing gown, odd slippers and a glum exterior.

Ellie found a tiny smile at the sight. With his nerves he had managed to button everything up in the right order. That had to be a first. She had been keeping an ear out for his yelling that his caught something in his flies, he was shaking that much. "Look at you, all groomed up. Why do you only bring out this suit for court appearances?"

"Because then my appearance might actually make an impression for good or bad where it matters. Got a good grilling about it early in my career. And today is a day to not look anything but presentable."

He was painfully right about that, she knew. She also knew he had already eaten. She had seen the bowl and spoon already dirty when she and Tom began preparing breakfast. "Had to start early?"

"Couldn't sleep. Been down four times," he finally admitted.

She nodded and helped him make sure he had everything exactly where it should be. "I should be offended. You never made this much of an effort, except for our wedding."

"You never said."

"Why should I? Men are supposed to know everything," she said in teasing banter.

"See, that's just an illusion. It's women who know everything and men simply know the rest."

"Aw, you're still trying to keep up?"

Hardy's gaze darkened. "Yeah."

Ellie snaked her arms around his middle and he did the same for her. "You know what your problem is?"

"What?"

"You need to lead instead of follow. You're not a follower. Tess broke you. Now you need to mend and be the man you used to be. The man with a bit of authority."

"Oh? So you want me to wield my sword a bit more?"

Ellie froze. "There are two answers for that. And one of them is too dirty for the kids to hear."

Even with their grim faces, Tom could sense the attempt at fun his parents were having. Even though it wasn't quiet like the old days, he could still feel the huge relief. This was the first day of getting their lives back together and getting Ben and Daisy home. This was a sign that things were getting back to normal. But would they stay that way? What if it went wrong?

It was out of their hands. Only his dad had any chance of influencing the courts, and if how far he went to look professional was any indication he was not certain of his chances. On the other hand, if he went in as a dad, and a very good one, too, then he had every chance of winning.

But given what he knew Hardy had done in leaving Ben and Daisy behind, Tom wondered if these people would listen to his dad at all. He didn't know how these things worked. He was thirteen. All this court stuff was for the grownups to deal with.

/=/=/=/=/

Hardy was disconcerted that he had to explain himself and his actions right back to the day of Daisy's birth. He had no idea how or why any of that was relevant. But he allowed his doctor to access her records and help prove his case.

"Here you can see that Mr. Hardy spent a great deal of time encouraging Daisy's doctors to check her diagnosis, taking her to regular check-ups, all vaccinations up to 2009 are up to date. Her heart was checked regularly and her Crohn's Disease was controlled. After that point, all medical contact with the child ceased. I checked her myself at the hospital when she was admitted and her symptoms have been unchecked and unmanaged. Her arthritis has worsened to the point that there are indications that there could be permanent damage to the kidneys and joints. Daisy has told me that she had basically been left to self-medicate, using Paracetamol in place of the correct anti-inflammatory medication. Her diet has been less than adequate for a child her age and is contributing to her poor health. Test are ongoing to re-examine the diagnosis of Crohn's. All the signs show me that there is systemic neglect on the part of her mother, and no input at all from the man who acted as her step-father."

Hardy tried not to flinch at the use of the term. Had Stratton been a solid upstanding citizen willing and able to take on two children, then he would have had no problem with him raising his kids. The problem was, Stratton was nothing of the sort.

"In the notes from previous doctors, Mrs. Hardy was noted to be adversarial and obstructive. She failed to turn up for appointments, failed to continue her daughter's vaccination program and failed to report any worsening symptoms. Until Daisy turned up in A&E on August 7th, this year, no one even knew she was pregnant. Daisy is mentioned as having made appointments, but was turned away by either a receptionist - one occasion - and denied access or cancelled by her mother - seven occasions."

Mrs. Troup, a long-time social worker from before the Social Services had been split into Adult and Children's services, sat across from him, the circular table almost as large as the room it sat in. She had sat, pinched-faced and stern, sitting next to the Adjudicator as if in teacher's pet mode, though there seemed more the Siamese Cats in Lady And The Tramp, feel about her. She had tried staring people down from her prized position, but her narrowed eyes gave away her annoyance that it had failed thus far. In the old days, none of these namby-pamby meetings would have taken place. She would go in, grab the kids, and leave. That was it. Parents did not get to ask why or improve on what had 'gone wrong' or fight for their return. They were abusers and that was it.

Beside her, the Adjudicator was the essence of calm. He had his arms folded on the table, taking it all in, making notes here and there. He had spoken to all the children involved before the meeting, and to the current wife of the man sitting to his right. He had spoken to him as well. The medical teams involved in Daisy's and Ben's care were all on Hardy's page, rooting for him, but he had a distinct impression that the woman on his left, almost in his pocket, was going to make things as difficult as possible. He had already told her to stop interrupting the doctor.

They had already heard from the police; nothing to report there. Hardy's record was exemplary. They had heard from the school where the children attended, the respective head-teachers having made the journey from Sandbrook to be here. The children were doing well, but it was hardly relevant to Hardy getting the children off Child Protection and onto a Child In Need footing, if that was even needed or appropriate. With everything he had heard so far, he couldn't understand why Hardy was here at all. He wasn't the parent involved in the abuse.

The Adjudicator's position was objective and neutral. He and his colleagues did not work for the Social Services, but for the government justice office in White Hall. They were the mediators, the deciders, the judge on what was acceptable and crucial information, and what was point scoring. Usually it was the Social Services against a parent. Mostly for the lesser range of Child in Need, thankfully. But this case was so obviously blown out of proportion that he was as mystified as the parent was defensive.

"What of Ben Hardy?" he asked.

"Ben's condition is critical but stable," Dr. Forster replied. He was the consultant manager at Broadchurch Hospital. All the medical staff worked under him, so it was his purview to cover all departments, and that covered any legal difficulties. He was a little annoyed that the poor gentleman sitting to his left had been dragged into this, since it was obvious from the statements made by the doctors and nurses at the hospital that DI Hardy had had little interaction with the children while under their care, and he knew he had had even less in the five years previous. "He needs a pace-maker to survive. His heart condition is non-treatable and terminal without it. He was born with the condition, inherited from his father, whom we suspected was not Bruce Stratton, but which was not confirmed until much later. As a result my staff had to work blind and treated Ben for a similar condition, which had no effect except to make him sicker. In the interim we were told that the boy had Juvenile MS. Our tests have concluded that he does not have MS or any similar condition. He is a normal child, well within all the developmental percentiles for his age with some major differences, which I will come to in a moment.

"Ben is, like his sister, undernourished and underweight and has shown some acquired ideas on who and what he is. He has been observed calling himself stupid and clumsy, things that are not normal for a child of his age. He was x-rayed and found to have a catalogue of injuries." He lifted a piece of paper and adjusted his reading glasses. "When the boy first came into the hospital we found no less than twenty-three bruises and soft-tissue injuries, some showed distinctive treat marks from a boot or shoe. He has seventeen rib fractures, some of which have healed in unnatural positions indicative of lack of medical treatment; broken and dislocation collar bone; a spiral fracture of the upper left arm, a break that is caused by twisting the arm in opposite directions; broken stirrup bone of the inner ear, an injury that is common in people who have been slapped across the side of the head; a green-stick fracture of the right arm that should have been pinned but wasn't and will need to be re-broken to set it correctly; four separate breaks to the fingers of both hands; two broken long bones of the right foot and at least two skull fractures, one of which is three years old and would have caused a severe concussion and could have killed him. None of these injuries were reported or treated at any hospital. A CT-scan of the brain revealed that there is old bruising to the left frontal lobe, which does not seem to have affected the boy in anyway, but also to the Supplementary Motor Area of the Motor Cortex. This area of the brain co-ordinates movement planning between both sides of the body, meaning Ben moves a lot slower than a child of his age and is liable to fall. He shakes if standing for too long and his hands and fingers already exhibit involuntary tremors, in what to the untrained eye appears to be Early-onset Parkinson's Disease. It is, in fact, Parkinson's Syndrome, often termed as post-traumatic encephalopathy, or punch drunkenness as the injury is predominant in the sport of Boxing. It's progressive and untreatable, and I apologise for being blunt, Mr. Hardy, but by the time Ben reaches adulthood, he will be unable to write, dress or feed himself. Most of these injuries, taken individually, could be caused by accidents. However, and I cannot stress this point enough. Ben's injuries were not and could not have been accidental."

The Adjudicator thanked the doctor, though only his professional training had forced his voice to work. And he noticed the pained reaction of Hardy at hearing all the details in such stark terms. The rest of the room was in stunned silence. "Is there anything else you wish to add?"

"I've given you all the information and read all the statements I have," the Doctor replied. "But I will make my position clear for the record. If Ben Hardy is placed in foster care, he will not live to see the end of the year. I'd stick my neck out and say he won't reach his fifth birthday, either."

"If I may be so bold," Mrs Troup put in. "It seems clear that Mr Hardy made no attempt at all to bring these injuries to the notice of a doctor and spent even less time trying to stop the abuse from happening."

"I had no access," Hardy put in. "And add to that I had no reason to believe Ben was my son-"

"The fact is you didn't care!" she snapped. "And your children that you presently have custody of? I'd like to see them submitted to medical checks."

Hardy did not like the sound of that phrasing, but he refused to react. A wrong reaction could kill his chances and even bring worse things upon his already emotionally and physically battered family. "Tom and Fred were already getting good medical checks when I and their mother got together, and we continued them at the same rate as before. My doctor has already proved that," he pointed out. "When Harry and Catherine were born, we had my doctor monitor them because of my medical history. My doctor confirmed that what I have is a genetic condition, and that the twins were at risk. So far neither of them has shown any signs. On saying that, we have aimed to avoid excessive stress in their lives, as that appeared to be what made my own condition so much worse. Our childminders, family and friends are all aware of the situation and are keen to make sure that they don't become overly stressed. We hope to avoid them needing any medication or surgery for as long as possible, but my wife and I both know that the reality is they may both need pace-makers at some point."

"Our team has been checking both children regularly," the doctor reminded those present. "I have never seen a more proactive parent than this man here."

"And yet he was careless with his own health during the investigation into Danny's Latimer's death," Mrs. Troup noticed from her own notes.

Miss. Helen Jolt, for the uncounted time, spoke up for Hardy against her colleague. "I have observed Mr. Hardy with both Daisy and Ben, and his four other children. There is substantial evidence that shows that his actions in the Latimer case were driven by his need to stop the killer striking again. It has no connection at all with his treatment of his children. And it bears no relation to how well he looks after himself now."

"Agreed," the Adjudicator noted. "Your arguments should be relevant, Mrs. Troup. If not, I shall ask you to leave the hearing. Mr. Hardy, what would you like to see happen in the near future where Ben and Daisy are concerned?"

"I'd like to bring them home," he replied. "Give Daisy the home life I gave her before I was forced to leave, to keep her safe and allow her the time she needs to heal. I'd like to give Ben the home and family life he has never had and make him as comfortable as I can, no matter how bad his condition gets."

Mrs. Troup was not to be outdone. "You are asking to be granted custody when you were a suspect in multiple murders?"

"My ex-wife and her lover were the suspects. She attempted to frame me," Hardy stressed.

"And you petition for your present wife to adopt Ben and Daisy, when she was investigated in the aftermath of her first husband's arrest?" she intoned.

It was all Miss Jolt could do to not sigh very loudly as she interjected again. "Not relevant," she said. "That investigation was dropped because there was no evidence that the then Mrs. Miller was complicit or even knowledgeable. There is no contact with Joe Miller. All parental rights for Fred and Tim were transferred to Hardy during his adoption hearing. This information has no bearing on Ben and Daisy Hardy and should be left off their records and never brought out again."

"Agreed-"

"He has no relationship with Ben!" Mrs Troup interrupted the Adjudicator.

"All because of his mother," the doctor protested. "My staff can and will testify in Court to Tess Hardy's efforts to block Mr. Hardy from contacting Daisy and told him to get out of Ben's room, and to her poor efforts toward her children's medical health. Ben Hardy _must_ be given to his father, and _soon_."

"Out of the question!" Mrs. Troup spat.

"Your last warning, Mrs. Troup," the Adjudicator spoke. When she closed her mouth he turned to the doctor. "Please repeat your conclusions."

"Ben's condition is extremely critical and unstable. If I understand correctly, a child is not permitted to receive major medical care or surgeries while in foster care, which is what Mrs. Troup is suggesting. Am I correct about that rule?"

The adjudicator nodded, face blank. The case worker, Miss. Helen Jolt, also confirmed it.

"Then I cannot stress enough that Ben Hardy's best, nee only, chance of living is for his father to gain custody of him immediately. If he doesn't get the pacemaker within the next few weeks, he won't see the New Year."

Hardy cringed, swallowing his protests at the very thought.

"I have no doubt that he would _never_ have got this sick had he been in the sort of loving environment that I know Harry and Catherine are being brought up in. If Mr. Hardy had been in charge of Ben's care, his condition would have been discovered much sooner and his life would not be hanging in the balance now. He also would _not_ have endured the injuries that have left him in a slowly deteriorating condition that will severely impede his life. I and my staff don't particularly care who caused the injuries, Mr. Stratton, Mrs. Tess Hardy or someone else, that's for the Crown Court to decide, but they have not happened at the hands of the man sitting here."

Jolt noticed that Troup seemed unmoved. "In any event, if our office denies Ben a stable home where he feels safe enough to recover and live as near a normal life as possible, we will be held criminally liable and negligent if he dies. He would be technically under our care. Are you really wanting to give the police a reason to search our offices like they have others? Has Children's Services not had its reputation damaged enough by incompetence? Because that's what'll happen if Ben is not given to his father."

"Don't threaten me," Mrs. Troup grated. "I was in Social Services before you were even born!"

"Enough!" snapped the Adjudicator. "I have heard enough to make a decision now, in light of Ben Hardy's health. Mrs. Troup, please leave the room. I will speak to you after the hearing."

Hardy nearly held his breath as the woman obeyed the command. He closed his eyes as the door closed behind her.

"Never, in the course of my job have I had to evict a professional from a case conference," the Adjudicator spoke. "I'd like to think there will not be a repeat." He dipped his eyes to his notes. "Am I to understand that the basis of this Child Protection Plan is to deny access to the named children for Mr Stratton and limit access by Mrs. Stratton?"

"Yes," Helen, the case worker, replied. "After her trial and possible prison sentence."

"And the charges against the step-father, Mr. Stratton, are considerable, and the charges against Mrs. Stratton are for wilful neglect and causing or allowing harm or abuse to a child, in this case two?"

"Yes," Helen replied.

"But there is no indication of abuse or allowance by Mr. Hardy?"

"None," the case worker replied.

"Then, if I might be so bold, why the hell is Mr. Hardy in this room and _not_ his ex-wife and her partner?"

Mrs. Troup's seconder, Mrs. Aylesbury, looked singularly embarrassed. She had yet to speak a word, but the Adjudicator's glare told her that now should be the time she did. "Our case is based on the evidence that Mr. Hardy knew about the abuse and did nothing about it for several years. He was given contact and access rights and did not show up for pre-arranged contact and, in fact, severed all ties with his daughter Daisy five years ago. Plenty of time to have reported or stopped the abuse himself. He didn't."

"As we have seen and heard, your evidence has been either fabricated or exaggerated," the Adjudicator. "And I shall make a mention of it in my final report. You have also deigned to include or mention in this conference, the report from a Mrs. Evans to Sandbrook Children's Services about her granddaughter, Daisy Hardy. Mrs. Evans was supposed to have been at this meeting, as a social worker from Sandbrook, a move that was cancelled by Mrs. Troup." He held up the corresponding sheet of paper so that everyone could see it. "She outlines very clearly what was going on after Hardy was evicted from his home and left to sleep in a car, repeatedly refused entry to collect his belongings, repeatedly refused access to his daughter, repeatedly denied access by the school on orders from the mother, and all of this was ignored, because the father was at that time a publicly disgraced police officer. Under guidelines from the government, work and home are not interchangeable when it comes to children and their care. Said police officer was exonerated. Why was this report not added to your case notes?"

Mrs. Aylesbury shook her head and shrugged. "I didn't know about that report."

"So why are you here?"

"I'm here as a stand-in for Mrs. Evans," she replied. "Mrs. Troup decided that because she is Tess Hardy's mother it would be inappropriate for her to be here as a social worker."

"Or perhaps Mrs. Troup wanted the full truth to be made known? Either way, I smell a cover-up," the Adjudicator responded pointedly. "I will make my conclusions. Mrs Aylesbury, please ask your colleague to come back in," he added forthrightly. He stacked his various piles of papers together while this was done. "We have heard from the police about Daisy Hardy's coercion into gang crime and about the events that followed. We have heard about the medical situation and the schools' reports on Daisy and Ben. We have heard the report from the staff at Broadchurch Cottage hospital. And we have heard the case as it stands from Bridport Children's Services point of view, and we have heard from the father himself," he summed up. "I have no interest in allowing a very sickly child to be effectively persona non grata as far as medical care is concerned. Foster care is _not_ an option."

Mrs Troup tensed, and scowled. Hardy had to remind himself to breathe. It helped that sitting next to him was Helen Jolt, and she looked more confident.

The Adjudicator continued, in the same calm manner as before. "I have already heard from each child, and they were adamant that they wanted to be with their father. Daisy is old enough that she can chose for herself, but she has insisted on remaining with her brother if they could not go to their father. When I spoke to Ben I saw a boy desperately wanting to know his father. There is no reason why I should not allow Mr. Hardy full access to his children, pending a Court order, but I think that would be granted. I have every confidence that the Court would grant that," he added for Hardy's benefit. "Given the evidence of how much attention Ben will receive in such a loving home and prompt medical intervention by the hospital staff, I see no need for visits from Children's Services for assessment regarding this matter in the future. This family has endured enough trauma and face enough uncertainty in the future with Ben's condition that I do not recommend Children's Services add to it. However, Ben and his family will need a CIN for his disabilities and I have every hope that that will be handled in a far more professional and sensitive manner than this CPP was." This was aimed at Helen, who readily nodded, and at Mrs. Troup, who simply scowled across the table at Hardy. The Adjudicator ignored her. "Once the children are able to leave hospital they can be placed with Mr. Hardy and his wife, without the need for further action from Children's Services in this matter on either CPP or CIN case conference. At such times as Tess Hardy is either released from prison or found not guilty, all access to the children by her must be strictly monitored by Children's Services, the details of that are in the hands of the Family Court. Copies of my conclusions will be sent to all parties within the next ten working days."

This was not good news to Mrs. Troup's ears. But she appeared to have no choice.

Hardy let out a huge breath, nearly needing to melt and slide off the chair into a puddle under the table. But he held on to armrests to stop himself, and managed a grateful smile. "Thank you."

One more nightmare was over. Now, he had to head to the Family Court for the custody hearing.

/=/=/=/=

Tess was in Court, under prison guard. Hardy did not look at her. Neither did Ellie or the children. Ben and Daisy were still in hospital until the doctors said they were well enough to leave. At which point, Hardy would very joyfully go and pick them up. He could barely contain himself to wait for that moment.

"I find the documents in good order," the magistrate summed up. "The report from Children's Services by Teresa Hardy's mother, Mrs. Evan, Mr. Hardy's former mother-in-law, states that he was an excellent and attentive father, a superior parent than her own daughter. More than once she reported that she thought her grandchildren were not receiving proper care, but she was ignored because she had supported a man considered disgraced in his profession. Disgraced by actions that I can see were actually Teresa Hardy's own doing. Mr. Hardy's only fault was in believing it was necessary to hide his then wife's affair from their daughter, but given the evidence shown here I am not certain I can fault him for thinking it was the only palatable course of action. But I am not going to consider his actions there in my decision. It is the actions as a parent that I am focusing on. In comparison to his ex-wife's his own are so far beyond reproach. I find it insane that my colleagues permitted the custody arrangement to remain standing and in fact ignored when the court agreement was breached by Teresa Hardy."

Tess tried to speak in her defence, but the magistrate immediately held her hand up and silenced her. "Furthermore, it hasn't escaped my notice that the former Mrs. Hardy has done everything she could think of to keep her husband away from his own children. Every day we deny him is a victory to her. I will not aid a negligent parent in their games against a deserving parent. Cases like this come before me every week, and I meet them with the same vigour and determination for justice for those children as I do now. The children's needs come first."

That shut Tess up.

"Tess Hardy's parental rights are hereby terminated. I award full custody and parental rights of both Daisy and Ben to their father, Alec Hardy. A request has been put before this Court to permit Ellie Hardy to adopt them both, and a decision on that will be made in due course. Mr. Hardy, you are free to pick up your children from the hospital as soon as they are well enough to go home. I wish you all the best for Ben's operation and for his future and to Daisy for her complete recovery. This case is closed."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	61. Episode 8, Part 3

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Eight. Part Three: From Pillar To Post<strong>

Chloe Latimer's phone went off. She had it out already, checking Twitter for news, not that _any_ of the Hardys were one for Twitter. She knew that much, but someone else might post something. She opened the text, sent from Ellie.

Her instant squeal startled Christopher, sitting in the kitchen with Liz. He began crying at once.

"Chloe!" Beth and Mark scolded, stepping into the living room to remind Chloe of their home's rules.

But she almost jumped into her mother's arms, shrieking with joy. "DI Hardy got custody!"

Beth gasped and grabbed the phone to see for herself. Mark plucked it up so he could see, too. When their eyes confirmed it they joined Chloe's cries as they clutched each other in relief. At once they were bouncing for joy.

This was the happiest, the best news they had had for a long time. Within seconds, each was on their phones, dialling and sharing the news with other friends. Liz, who did not need much to calm Christopher now that he could see his family was happy, smiled on the verge of tears.

/=/=/=/=/

On the far side of town, outside a house in a quiet street in Broadchurch, the temporary foster home given to her while she waited for the chance to safely return home, Hailey Bridgewater heard her phone buzz with a text. She opened it and read it silently.

Within moments her face broke into a beaming smile almost identical to the one on Chloe's face. Finally, something had gone completely right! She thrust both hands high into the air.

"Yes!" she yelled.

Neither she nor Chloe knew that Lara Daniels was also shouting for joy. Hardy had won the Children's Services case conference and custody. And many others across the sleepy town on the Dorset coast.

"What is it? What's happened?" a voice called worriedly from the door.

Hailey turned to grin at her temporary foster carer. "It's ok, Mrs. Jenkinson," she assured her. "DI Hardy's won custody."

/=/=/=/=/

The doctor gave a final check of Ben's vital signs and injuries' status and made notes to the paperwork on the bed. He then carefully removed the IV, which had already been turned off, placing a little superman plaster where the tube had been inserted.

Adjusting the oxygen fed on the gauge attached to a portable tank, he slotted the unit into a compartment under a wheelchair.

"All's set," he said at length.

At last, the nurses gently moved Ben into the wheelchair, checked the nasal tube, and explained the setting to his big sister standing beside it. He and Daisy were being released today. He had been in the hospital for two months, she for a little less to find and manage a correct treatment regimen, and to wait for legal advice on where to send them. They were both ready for a change from this sterile yet safe environment.

But what change would it be? The social worker was not saying, just that they were being discharged today. So it could be practically anything, and the lack on confirmation was not making either feel any better.

Daisy walked beside Ben, holding his hand as he was wheeled out. She stared straight ahead. No one was telling her anything other than medical things.

Ben looked up at the social worker. "Where are we going?" he asked again.

"You'll know soon enough," she said, her face guarded even as she gave them both a smile.

Daisy feared what her words could mean. Would they ever see their dad again? At least not until Ben was aged out of care? She was strictly too old, but she refused to be parted from her brother. She still wondered if they would grant that.

Some minutes later they were seated in the back of an Audi. The car seat Ben had used on the way down to Broadchurch was now holding him as they were driven to wherever they were supposed to go.

Aside from letting them consult on her decision about the baby, Daisy had not seen her key worker, her dad or her cool step-mum since the day her mother and Bruce were arrested. It was not an encouraging picture she saw being painted before her. She wondered if this seemingly nice lady was really another one of those monsters who separated families. She'd heard about them.

They all worked for the Social Services, Daisy had painfully realised. That, in theory, made them powerful and unrivalled. Some had abused that power in the past. She vaguely remembered her dad and someone else quietly grumbling about that when they thought she was asleep. She was sure she was no older than ten at the time.

The journey from the hospital was taking a very long time, Daisy thought. She frowned at the countryside flying by. How far was it to her dad's house? That was where they were going, wasn't it? It was a full ten minutes before she began to see many houses again, but it felt like a different town entirely.

In fact, she distinctly recognised it.

"Uhm... excuse me, Mrs. Troup? This isn't Broadchurch. This is Weymouth."

"I know," the woman replied airily as she parked the car outside a terraced row of Victorian houses.

Daisy kept her uncertainty hidden. Had her dad moved again? Or had her mum lied about where he lived?

She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to do the same for Ben.

"I'll do that," Mrs. Troup cautioned her in the same tone. "It's not your job now," she said not unkindly. "Someone else will be taking care of him now so you can be a sister and not a mother to Ben."

Daisy silently agreed with that. But still, where were they?

She got out of the car and followed Mrs. Troup into the house. Their clothes, all hand-me-downs given to them by Mrs. Troup, were in black bags by the front door. Nice house. Very quiet inside after the raucous mob of seagulls outside. But in the living room stood not her dad and his family. But two strangers.

"Here they are," Mrs. Troup announced. "We'll be in touch as son as we have a permanent placement for Ben. Here's my card, should you need to contact me. The Children's Services, Sandbrook Office, will be handling the case from now on."

The couple thanked her and Daisy suddenly felt the need to run. But she would not leave her brother.

"Welcome to our home," the man said. "I'm Greg and this is Molly. We'll show you to your rooms. Your room is upstairs, Daisy, and Ben, your room is downstairs in the extension. You have your own bathroom. How about that?"

They were nice, on first impressions. Genuine people, but Daisy was just a little alarmed.

"What's going on?" she asked, numb with shock.

Greg blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"We were supposed to be going to our dad's house. He's expecting us."

Greg and Molly shared an awkward glance.

"Sorry, Daisy, I mean no offence, sweetheart," Molly replied. "But you need a safe and loving environment."

"My brother needs a pacemaker more than anything else," Daisy replied. "And where's his wheelchair? Where's his oxygen canister?There's been a terrible mistake in bringing us here. We were supposed to be going home."

Greg spoke up. "From what we've heard, going back to your parents is out of the question. Why would you want to go back to someone who hurt you?"

"Why are you lying about our dad?" Daisy responded angrily. "Our dad never hurt us! Our mum and her stupid boyfriend hurt us! Call Mrs. Troup, call anyone. I want to go home!"

Greg looked less than impressed. "I'll show you to your room. Once you've settled in you'll feel much better.

Daisy stared at them in silent and growing horror. Ben trembled beside her.

/=/=/=/=/

Hardy arrived at the hospital almost at the same time as the doctor who had been at the case conference that morning. They spoke a little on the way up to the ward, Hardy's family buzzing with excitement at the prospect of Daisy and Ben coming home.

"Given your close proximity to the hospital I think they can both go home today," the Doctor announced. "Ben, I'm afraid, will be reliant on oxygen until he has the pacemaker fitted. I'll show you how to use it."

"Thanks."

They walked into the ward and Hardy instantly noticed that Ben's room was empty. He wondered if that meant he was well enough to be moved into the general ward. But the four beds in the general ward were all occupied.

"Where's my son?" he asked. "Where's Ben? Has he been moved to another bed?"

A nurse looked up at him blankly. He did not recognise her. "Which bed was he in?"

"This one," he pointed to the observation room behind the nurse's station. "Is he with Daisy? Or playing somewhere, perhaps? We're here to take them home."

Then he noticed his doctor's face turn white.

"What's happened?" Hardy asked. He felt a swell of panic. "Oh god. Did he take a turn for the worse? Has he died? Tell me!"

/=/=/=/=/

Hardy lay on the sofa, his eyes open but dead. It was all he could do to hold his babies in his lap, one in his arm, falling asleep, and one on hisshoulder. It was all he could do to take a breath. All he wanted to do was die.

The hole he had sunk into was wretched and dark. He did not remember the sedative they had given him, beyond the sharp scratch to his thigh. He didn't remember anything of the journey home. He did not remember the kids crying. He did not remember dinner.

His mind was a jumble of unreal thoughts and half-imagined voices. He could not even find the dividing line between awake and asleep.

At some point he realised the twins were no longer there. A pair of hands had given him Fred to cuddle, but after a while he was gone, too. And by his side, sat Tom. He had felt his concerned eyes on him at least once, but he could not turn his head. Could not take his eyes from the blankness of his life. Ben could be dead in weeks, and he was gone. He didn't know where. He did not know who had authorised Ben's removal from hospital. He did not know where his children had been takenor who had taken them. He did not know how to get them back.

He vaguely recalled Ellie shouting into her phone at someone, possibly called Helen Jolt. But he had no idea who that was now. And frankly he did not care. He just wanted his children home.

Some time later, his meal untouched and his tea ignored, Ellie curled into his side. She said nothing, just stroked his shoulders and chest, soothing the knots in his muscles. But she wondered how much of a balm she was against the rest of the pain.

Eventually the sedative began to wear off. At that moment, he broke down and cried. Ellie held him, crying with him. She made vows to fight on. She would kick up so much stink. Whoever had done this, she would make them pay. This was putting him under tremendous mental trauma.

Her husband had a pacemaker. But what did Ben have? Where was he sleeping that night? Did he and Daisy even know how close they had been to coming home? Something told her they didn't even know. Something told her that Ben was not doing as well as his dad.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	62. Episode 8, Part 4

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Eight, Part Four: Face To Face<strong>

Ellie had been waiting for this moment. The interviews were all done, and the suspects knew the evidence that tied them to their crimes. She had heard about the explosions that happened when they caught sight of each other as they were taken to different police stations by the Metropolitan Police. Bruce Stratton had already left. The security van for Tess Hardy had not arrived yet. Even while still in Broadchurch police custody they had had to be taken to opposite ends of the cells to make sure they could not carry on their dispute.

But Ellie had other concerns in her mind besides Tess and Bruce's domestic squabbling. Her husband, left an emotional wreck and needing sedation, deserved some answers. And she would face Tess, mother to mother, but by no means equals.

"Afternoon, Sarge," greeted the Duty Officer as he led her through and nodded to the person waiting for them. "DS Broome is already here."

Detective Sergeant Anna Broome - and God strike her dead if she was wearing her new promotion with pride - greeted her outside the door. "You do know that there are cameras?"

"She actually asked to speak with me, even though she didn't realise it's me. I was wondering how long I'd have to wait for this. I won't do anything to hurt the chances for a conviction on any level, or hurting us in getting daisy and Ben. Trust me. I won't kick her arse like I did Joe's. She's not even worth it."

Anna nodded. "Just take care. Just because she's beaten doesn't mean she's down for the count."

"I can do more than hold my own," Ellie promised.

Sighing, Anna opened the door and led her inside. She would remain there at all times, and with the door open. It was the one protection the Supers had insisted on.

Tess Hardy sat on the bench in her cell, head bent and fingers laced together in her lap. She was wearing a Category A, bright orange, jumpsuit which singled her out as a child killer. She had seen her husband in one, and for the second time in her life at seeing one, she now took pleasure in seeing it on this woman. Tess' own clothing had been confiscated and, pending trial and conviction, she would not be allowed to see normal clothing again for many years.

Tess looked up and grimaced at the sight of her visitors.

Ellie could not resist a smirk as she stood in the doorway across from the woman whose ghost she had sometimes felt like she was fighting against. Said feeling was gone now, edited out by the horrific acts she had committed. "That's not exactly your colour. But I think you know that even without a mirror. And don't look so grim. _You_ asked _me_ here."

The ex Mrs. Hardy was startled by that. Shestraightened as she forced her face into a smoother expression. "I wanted to know who had taken my place. Just for curiosity," she said. "I asked to see the new Mrs. Hardy. I wasn't exactly expecting you, but I suppose I should have been."

"I didn't take your place," Ellie corrected. "You left it vacant. And assumed it at the hospital."

Tess did not respond, although the twitching of her lips said she was tempted to. "When did you first realise you were attracted to Alec?"

"None of your business, and I'm only answering it if you answer with the truth. You've told so many lies that I don't know if you remember how to speak the truth anymore."

Tess bristled but responded with care. "Alec and I met during police training. We fell in love, rose up through the ranks, both switched to CID at the same time. We lived together for five years. I'll admit I married him as much to please my mum as to stake a claim on him. Several other constables were eyeing him up, but he loved me. So... how about you?"

Ellie thought for a moment, more to decide how to phrase it. "I'd just got back from a family holiday to Florida, ready to take on a promotion. I thought Joe and I had revived the spark in our marriage. Then I learned my promotion had been cancelled and my job had been given to someone I thought had failed in his last major investigation. So I was already furious at him when I met him at a scene of crime, which didn't exactly make things better in my mind and didn't do him any favours. I thought he wasn't what the victim, the family or the town needed. But I quickly realised that he had a keen eye for spotting details and getting information out of people. If it hadn't been for him, I'd have been the DI on that case, and I know now that I wasn't ready. I think, in retrospect, my first clue was that when one of the people I work with asked me out. I went and told Hardy."

Tess had to snort.

Ellie decided to ignore the reaction. "But it was as much how he handled telling me about what my ex had done, how he looked after me and my boys once he was put on medical leave. He made sure we had somewhere to live. He made sure I was reintegrated into work quickly after my ex-husband's arrest. The clincher was how he was around my boys. He was a natural with Fred, and he gained Tom's trust, maybe drawing him back from the risks of crime and suicide that I'm told some kids go through when their lives are shattered like ours were. In fact, it was Tom who first voiced the idea that I should get together with him. But we waited to act on it until after my divorce." Mostly, she added silently.

She did not need to admit any of those other instances, near misses, the kindness he had offered her, the safe haven she felt when near him. Not that Tess deserved to hear about them.

Tess folded her arms. "You got lucky. I made mistakes, big mistakes, including trusting Bruce. Did you throw up when you found out about Joe? Even kick him? I would have. I tried to hit Bruce several times, but missed."

"Yeah. I lashed out," Ellie responded. "Got a reprimand, which was overturned later. My ex never went as far as Bruce. And given what you did to Sarah, I don't think you have much room to claim to be as horror-stricken as I was about Joe. You made your own bed. Mine was made for me."

Tess narrowed her eyes in a challenge. "You really think you're any better than me?"

"I know I'm better. Want to know how I know?"

"Do tell. I'm all ears," Tess said as she leaned forward, positive that her replacement was bluffing.

Ellie smiled. This was one particular moment she had been waiting for. "One, I've seen your record. You couldn't investigate your way out of a paper bag in the time Alec can solve ten cases. Two, his actions prove that while he seems cold and detached, he is anything but. He cares too much rather than not enough. His care towards victims of crime, especially the Latimers - which I did not properly notice or respect at the time - and repeated this year for the Wallaces, the Gotleibs and the Dusks, has earned him respect in this town. His care for every member of the team, CID and uniform, has earned him respect at work. His care toward me and my boys, and the respect he shows us, has earned him respect at home. What I've seen of how you interact with your kids is nothing like it. You're cold and detached, uncaring and unfeeling. Even Joe wasn't as bad as you. Three, Alec and I have joked with each other that we each traded up in spouses. I think you proved it. We both went from someone who wasn't actually trustworthy to someone who has our best interests at heart. Even if we snap at each other sometimes, we show nothing but a positive front with our kids. Arguing and fighting all say every day breaks a child no less than physically harming them. And four, the biggest one of all?" She paused for a second, allowing her words a moment to sink in and leave a big enough void for her final point. "I never thought it possible, but you actually managed to make my ex look halfway decent."

"You what?" Tess cried out.

Anna's eyes widened. She did not see this coming.

"You heard me. Joe didn't set out to kill Danny. It was an accident. It was his reaction to what had happened that was the worst part, the not knowing how he could defend his actions in lying to all of us. Unlike you, he never set out to deliberately hurt an innocent. Unlike you, he didn't kill a child in order to test someone's ability. Unlike you, he wasn't twisted or bitter. Unlike you, he did not make his children suffer to hurt anyone else. Unlike you, he did not get involved in someone to cause trouble. And unlike you, he never brought someone into our lives to put the children at risk. You're a copper. You're supposed to be above reproach. Instead you destroyed your family, disgraced yourself and disgraced your profession. In every respect, Joe is the better person."

Tess stared at her, mouth open and eyes wide.

Anna covered her mouth to hide a smile. That was the best sight ever. She was actually glad to know that it was on camera. Hardy might even be pleased when he heard about it. She knew the duty officer would be only too pleased to share the tape with the colleagues might also enjoy it, a reward for their hard work.

Ellie turned to leave, but hesitated. "Oh, and one more thing. You might have been in Court for the custody hearing, but you weren't at the case conference at Social Services. The case was closed, you attempt to put the blame on us and bring a CPP against Alec failed. So answer me this, because this alone would justify me kicking your arse off Dead Man's Point. Why did you have Daisy and Ben removed from the hospital while we were still in Court?And don't lie because we found the record of your call to Mrs. Troup."

Tess slowly shrank in on herself, sagging in the chair.

"Alec got custody. And I've filed to adopt them. Given that your rights have been revoked in the simple light of what you put them through medically, physically, mentally and emotionally, I'll be their mum. So what possessed you to risk Ben's life by having him moved? Was it jealousy? Was it some final spark of hatred against Alec, a man who had never done you wrong? Whatever it was, you failed. We'll get Daisy and Ben back. And you better hope it happens before Ben dies. Because no matter where they send you, I'll find you andkick your arse all the way to hell."

With that, Ellie walked out, head held high and suppressing a big smile at the final triumph over the woman who made Alec and his children suffer for so long. Never again would Tess have a hold over any of them, except in their nightmares. And those would fade eventually.

Anna moved to close the door behind her. The security van would come for Tess soon. Best that they were out before they she paused as an impish urge hit her. She leaned back in. "By the way?"

Tess looked up slowly, blinking as she realised the other visitor was speaking.

"I made DS because of this case. Thanks for the promotion."

Tess' mouth managed to drop a little further.

Anna smirked as she closed the door. As she rejoined Ellie they shared a grin of professional and womanly solidarity.

/=/=/=/=/

Legal proceedings for the adoption were an informal affair, though it was more sombre than they had hoped. Daisy and Ben were not there at any of the meetings with the key worker, Helen Jolt from Children's Services. And, as such, the adoption was rejected by the court.

"They must both live with you for six months before you can file for an adoption. Where are they living?"

"I don't know," Hardy replied. "I was granted full parental rights two weeks ago, but the children were removed without my permission before we had even left this Court."

"Sir, the children were removed from their mother's care and full rights were awarded to Mr Hardy," Jolt spoke up. "However, another social worker took the children from the hospital, contrary to the conclusions made at both the CPP and the legal hearings, and against medical advice, and the children were placed in foster care. Steps have been made to return them to their father as quickly as possible give the son's critical condition."

"I see that. However, legally, a child must be living with the parent and adopting parent for a minimum of six months before this process can begin. That does not include the three-month adoption process. Case dismissed."

"Sir, please," Jolt pleaded. "Without the adoption in place, Children's Services can't return Ben to his father. And if he is not returned he will not get the life-saving operation he desperately needs. I am asking, I am begging, you to reconsider," she told him passionately. "Ben is dying, sir. Legally, foster parents are not allowed to give medical treatment, and we are not allowed to intervene unless it's a case of abuse or neglect. Ben's condition is genetic and without a pacemaker he will die. Possibly within weeks. I am asking you, please, to allow the adoption to go through under Special Measures subsection 2."

The magistrate looked from her to one of the sheets of paper in front of him and read the Special Measures for himself. And then he looked at the medical report, the grave outlook and then at the faces of Hardy and his wife. These past two weeks had been a hell no parent or child should have to endure. Could he, in all conscience, dare to make it worse and risk ending a child's life in the process?

He picked up the rubber stamp and banged it onto the adoption papers. He thensigned it and held it out to Miss Jolt. "Done. Now get those children home, Miss Jolt. Today, if not sooner."

/=/=/=/=/

The only thing Daisy could tell as the car went along the roads was that they were heading toward farmland. So they were going back toward Broadchurch? There were some familiar landmarks, although she was seeing the other side of the road this time. It was near impossible to tell one field from another.

Would she at least be able to reach out to Chloe and Hailey and the others once this was all over? Hailey might take a bit longer, since she had no idea where she was, but the others? If she was going home, to her dad's... She had her mobile that her dad had given her. The social workers who had some to pick them up had given it back to her. She was happy for Daisy to have the phone, but had asked her not to use it until she got to where she was taking them. That was a good sign, she hoped.

Ben had spent much of the past two weeks sleeping or lying on the sofa. He was too weak to do anything else, and walking to the toilet always gave him palpitations. The key worker was gentle and patient with him. Something Greg and Molly, as nice as they were, did not do. They always wanted him up and out in the garden or took him out on day trips, which exhausted him. At least they noticed how easily he tired and began to lessen the number of occasions and length, although that took too long. Every day she worried it would be her brother's last.

These social workers had sat and talked to them, something the last one had not done. The conversation had taken long enough for Greg and Molly to pack their clothes, none of which actually fitted Daisy and Ben, all given to them by that awful last social worker, Mrs Troup. She wished she could have her own clothes back.

While their key worker, Helen Jolt, had talked with them, Daisy noticed that Molly and Greg had shared their written notes and Ben's school photos with Helen's seconder, all in triplicate copies. She wondered what those notes said. She had missed continuing her A-levels, and had instead studied by herself. She was worried at how far behind she might be, or if she would have to give up her education altogether.

Still, five minutes into the drive, Daisy realised where they were heading. She could see it plain as daylight on a road sign. Broadchurch22 miles. She hoped and now believed she was right. There was the farm where Dean worked, and the old orchard. Controlling her excitement, just in case she was wrong and just in case the key worker noticed, she carefully took out her phone and sent a text to Chloe.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	63. Episode 8, Part 5

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Eight, Part Five: Word Spreads<strong>

Chloe ran down the stairs. "Mum! Dad! Daisy's coming home!"

It had been two weeks since the case conference, and just hours since the emergency hearing that morning. And no one knew the outcome of that one yet. No one had even dared to hope for a good outcome. Even Beth had seen the glazed look on Hardy's face. He had been given compassionate leave from work and Ellie... Beth couldn't begin to know what she was going though. But on some level, deep inside her, she did know. And the shock of that realisation made her awaken from her own hell.

"Now?" she almost squeaked.

"Yes! She said she was in the car and on the road to Broadchurch. What else can it mean?"

"Where's she coming from?" Mark asked.

"Preston in Weymouth."

"Thirty-five minutes at the most," Mark worked it out in his head. They'd need furniture, clothing, toys. "Beth, get on to your friends. I'll call mine. Chloe, text all of your friends-"

"Done it."

"What? You don't even know what I'm going to ask yet."

"Me and Lara have been planning it all for weeks, ever since Daisy told me her mum was arrested. Just in case," Chloe admitted. "I had a what-if scenario with Ellie two weeks ago, the day before the case meeting. She wouldn't talk about it until it was a what-if. She had a list of stuff she'd need if they got custody. And she hadn't shared it with Alec, because he'd start crying every time she mentioned it. So I copied the list and passed it round. We all picked a couple of things off the list and it's all sorted."

Mark gaped at his daughter in shock. Suddenly his phone rang and he took it out. "Hello... Yeah...? I dunno, up in Bridport... Not in that time, no. They deliver direct on big items, and they take weeks... Just a second..." He turned to his daughter and wife, his phone to his chest, and whispered. "Hardy's in a right panic. He's got no clothes, no furniture, no nothing, and his kids are arriving in twenty minutes. He wants to borrow the van so he can go up to Argos."

"What do we do?" Beth wondered. "Thirty-five minutes isn't long enough, let alone twenty."

"I'll ask her to go the long way around," Chloe decided, and had it sent as a text in just five seconds. Five seconds after that came a reply. And several more pings came at once. Chloe's thumbs kept moving over the keys at a frenetic pace. "Dad, your van's at Nigel's. He's got bunk beds. Pete and his mum's got a chest of drawers and a wardrobe. Bob and Caroline's got Lara's old clothes, a chest of drawers, a tallboy and a single bed. They're both bringing that over in ten minutes. My mates are coming down in five minutes with bags of stuff. Jake Crawley's got a load of toys. And my stuff's in the garage ready to go in the car. We're all meeting at Ellie's, but it's a secret, so don't let on until you get there." She looked up at her dad. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Mark turned and made off as fast as he could go for the back door, talking into his phone as he went. "Ok, mate. I'll be down in about ten minutes," he said before he hurried out the door. "I dunno, I'll think of something. See you in a bit," he added and ended the call.

"We need to get cooking," Chloe said to her mum. "They'll be in shock and not thinking straight."

"I don't have enough in to feed you lot and Hardy's family!" Beth cried out.

"Mum, I told you. We've been having a whip round for ages." Chloe threw open the dresser doors in the living room, once filled with stuff and junk, to show it stocked up with tinned soup, vegetables and fruit. "Gran's been helping," she admitted.

Beth looked at her daughter in awe and then at her mum, and then back again. She wrapped her in her arms and held her tight. "Oh god, you put us to shame, you do."

/=/=/=/=/

Hardy looked at Ellie in utter nervous loss. He had no idea where to start. They had not given them very much warning at all. He and Ellie had known from the meeting with the Adjudicator - just two weeks before - that this moment was coming. But they had not been given a date. And then on finding the children gone from the hospital into emergency foster care, despite winning both cases, their life had gone on hold. Now, with thirty minutes warning, the kids were on their way.

They had both been working long hours to make up for the missed day at the custody and social services hearings. Returning home after the adoption hearing that morning had been good, but the children had still not been there. And now...?

The housework hadn't been done. Even the weekly shopping had not been bought yet. Nothing was ready. Beyond clearing a space in Tom's room and moving Fred in with him on the top floor. But they soon realised that there was not enough room for three single beds. They had half thought of returning Fred's bed to the now empty room beside theirs. The bedroom was distinctly a toddler's room and they had no time to redecorate. They had no suitable furniture for a teenage girl and nothing for her to wear.

"Oh god," he breathed. "This isn't going go down well. Social services will take one look at this and take them away again."

Ellie hushed him before he could burst into another round of tears. Not that she begrudged him. She turned her head, hearing a vehicle in the driveway. "Who's that outside?"

Hardy went to look. "Pete Lawson. With a van. My god, there's another outside on the road. Uniforms! What is going on?"

Leaving Ellie with the kids, he rushed downstairs to the door and stepped outside. "What's going on?"

"Operation Hardy, sir," Pete Lawson replied, as if it had been an official police case. "Been working undercover for about a fortnight. We have a delivery for a Ben Hardy. One wardrobe, bunk beds, two chests of drawers and a toy box. Where do you want them?"

Hardy could not find the words and simply pointed. Somehow he kept it together as he led the way inside. He waved to Ellie to not ask and led the odd procession up stairs. He practically watched them slot bunk beds together and put Tom's things on the top bunk and dress the lower bunk ready for Fred. Fred's toddler bed and Tom's single bed stood in pieces against the wall with a new chest of drawers between the beds and a new but empty toy box, stood next to Tom's and Fred's boxes by the window.

And then Hardy orchestrated the makeover of the boys' room as bobbies carried the dismantled beds to the garage, and within a minute other furniture arrived, apparently labelled "For Daisy" with pretty stickers, which Ellie shepherded to Fred's old room. Chloe arrived with some pretty bedding she and her friends had made themselves. They had been decorated with names and phone numbers and messages from all her friends. A wardrobe and a chest of drawers finished the room off. But they were not finished. Clothing arrived and girls laid them all out on the bed for Daisy's arrival, while another bag went upstairs into the boy's room for Ben.

Hardy stood in disbelief as toys began the journey up to the turret room. He heard his name called from the bottom of the stairs. He descended to stare at his equally stunned and confused wife.

"Operation Hardy," she managed, her lip quivering. "Chloe did it. And Beth's in our kitchen making dinner." She lost it then, sobbing quietly.

Hardy held her close. "Chloe is one amazing young lady," he breathed. "I think she got the whole town involved. Chloe Latimer, officer-in-charge."

Ellie giggled wetly. She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Are you all right?"

He nodded. "I think... I will be once the children get here. You all right?"

"Yeah." She glanced at her watch. "I don't know what's keeping them but the kids should have been here by now."

"All done," Mark announced.

"I can't believe it," Ellie voiced. She had barely noticed at the banging about and noise had ceased. "I can never thank you enough."

"We needed to do it," Beth replied. "Me more than most... I'm sorry. It's been a horrible two years and I shouldn't have let it draw out for so long. I know you wouldn't have been with Joe if you'd known. I know you too well. But my head was somewhere else. My reasoning. But your husband's right. We should help each other in times like this. And my daughter brought me back to myself. I've missed you, Ellie. Forgive me?"

"Oh, you silly bugger, there's nothing to forgive," Ellie breathed and hugged her old friend in fierce reply. "Sometimes, even in good light and with 20/20 vision you can miss things. I had wanted to be married for life, so badly and I tried to hard to keep my family together that I missed something in Joe. I wish I hadn't. I wish I knew then what it was I should have seen. Even now I can't see it. Now, I understand what many people go through that are questioned about their spouse's actions and they swear they didn't know. I always thought they were lying. But now I know there are many that weren't. I swear I didn't, Beth. If I had I would have stopped him. I would have done something. God knows, Hardy's seen me at my worst. I would have killed Joe if he hadn't stopped me."

Beth stroked her face and silently wept with her as she shook her head. "No. Don't do that. You're better than that. Better than Joe."

Ellie sobbed gently. "Do you remember that night when I told you I was going into the police force? And you said to me, marry a copper who was tall, dark and handsome." She glanced over her shoulder for a second and turned back with a shrug. "Oh well. Two out of three, eh?"

Beth laughed with her as Hardy rolled his eyes. With his hands stuffed into his pockets, he didn't dare ask which one he had failed on.

/=/=/=/=/

Two minutes later and the house was deserted again, save for Hardy, Ellie and the kids, all sitting in the living room in expectant excitement. Lucy and Olly had raced around to help, their lifeline again. The smell of soup wafted through the kitchen and living room and worked its way up the stairs. It was making their mouths water and their tummies grumble.

"Can we eat, yet, Daddy?" Fred asked.

Hardy almost flew across the room, his feet barely touching the floor as his heart skipped a beat at hearing the boy calling him that. It never got old. He smiled wiping tears from his face.

"Not yet, Fred. There's someone coming."

"We got some more vitizors?" Fred struggled to say.

"No, these ones aren't visiting," Hardy squatted to talk to him. "These ones are staying. Remember me telling you about Ben and Daisy?"

Fred nodded.

"Daisy and Ben are coming to live with us," Hardy explained. "They'll be here any minute now. So we've moved your bed into Tom's Room, and Ben, your big brother, will share with you and Tom. And Daisy, your big sister, will have your old room. Is that ok?"

Fred thought about it and nodded. "Why can't she sleep with Cattin and Harry?"

"Well, she's a bit big for that room," Hardy explained. "She's taller than Tom."

"Oh. Ok. But all my toys are in my bedroom."

"They were, but now they're in your new room."

Instead of being really pleased, Fred burst into loud wails.

Ellie scooped him up and shook her head at Hardy. "It's fine. He'll be all right once he realises nothing much has changed."

/=/=/=/=/

"Where are you taking us?" Daisy finally asked, unable to handle the silence as they turned along a road that seemed to take them toward the sea. Asking them to take a longer route to enjoy the countryside had been met with a suspicious look. She had no idea why Chloe asked that of her.

Helen Jolt was now holding a map while her colleague, Mrs. Price, had taken over the driving. They were lost, but Mrs. Price smiled at them through the rear view mirror. "We're almost there. Just another minute or two."

"Next left," Helen spoke.

"I knew we should have brought the sat-nav."

"Well, the kids wanted a detour. Unfortunately that last one turn off took us down a bridal path that even the sat-nav would have avoided." She gave the kids a cheeky grin, which made Ben smile. "Not to worry. Next left will take us back to the road we started on. Ten minutes after that we'll be at your destination."

"Yeah, but you haven't said where we're going," Daisy pointed out.

"It's a surprise," Helen said.

Daisy sighed heavily and sank back against the seat. She hoped it was not the nasty surprise they had had after Mrs Troup had driven them away. She kept holding Ben's hand, so sure she had been right and they were going home, but pretending for so long that she didn't know was beginning to strain. It felt as if Ben's hand was the only thing keeping her calm.

Within moments she observed the house where she had left her baby coming into view. But the car turned off the road up a lane lined by woodland on one side and a hedge of yellow Leylandii on the other. She could smell the scent of the evergreens as they flicked gently passed the window.

And there, ahead of them, was a whitewashed stone-build house. It looked as if it had once been one of a pair, one on either side of a grand entrance to a manor house, whose driveway began with a gatehouse, like a castle, but much less important.

The right hand side of the gatehouse was long gone, buried beneath the orchard at the end of the line of Leylandii, but some of the original arch still protruded from the upper wall of the house. And the house had three floors with a turret sticking up from the top bedroom.

"Wow!" Ben crowed gently. "It's a castle!"

Mrs. Price switched off the engine and sighed with dramatic effect. "That's it. I give up. I don't know about you, Miss Jolt, but I am lost."

Helen cleared a giggle from her throat. "Oh yes," she added in mock seriousness. "We shall have to ask directions."

Daisy looked between them and realised what they were up to. They were pretending. Ben giggled heartily. She wondered if this was yet another foster home. But then she saw people coming of the side door, most of whom hovered by the steps. The one leading was a tall man. He took a stunned step closer, afraid to be wrong, afraid to be right.

Daisy sucked in a loud gasp. She knew that man! She was sure she could have lost her memories and still known instinctively who it was.

Ben's eyes widened as he stared out through the window screen around the front seat. "Daisy, is it Daddy?"

Choking on her breath, she whispered to Helen. "Is this real? Please don't be joking. Don't tell me we're dreaming. I couldn't take either. Please!"

Helen turned in her seat and smiled widely at them. "It's no joke or a dream. Welcome to your new home. You can use your phone now."

She was practically choking on her breaths. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" Daisy hurriedly whipped out her phone and tapped a fast text to three of the numbers she had programmed from memory, Hailey, Lara and Chloe. _We're home with Dad! To stay!_

Daisy got out of the car, she found Helen gently lifting Ben into his wheelchair, while her colleague strapped the oxygen tank into the compartment under the seat. "You got it back."

"Along with everything else," Helen alluded, changing the oxygen bottle, which she had resumed the day she had found out where the children had been taken without authorisation - thanks to Greg and Molly phoning her office with concerns just a few days before - for a fresh one.

Daisy wished again that the social worker hadn't taken away Ben's wheelchair. Her dad had always told her to hate the action not the person, but sometimes she found it impossible. But now thathe had it back, he wouldn't be confined to one room of the house.

Now, she could greet her dad.

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	64. Episode 8, Part 6

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Eight, Chapter Six: Reunion Long Delayed<strong>

When they had seen the car arrive there had been a mad dash to get to the door first. Ellie held them back, explaining that Daddy had waited a very long time for this, so they had to be patient and let him go first. Their little bodies crammed into the doorway to watch the scene unfold.

Hardy took a step towards the car, the tension making him shake like a leaf. Behind him stood Lucy and Olly, keeping Tom, Fred, Harry, and Catherine waiting as their mother joined their father, waiting just behind him. He watched Helen and her colleague get out of the car and get a wheelchair from the boot. He watched in almost-silent disbelief as they prepared Ben to meet him.

Daisy checked on Ben first, for the first time in his life she felt as if she didn't need to be his main carer anymore, and let them do what they needed to do. Instead she looked at her dad. Her face lit up on seeing his relief. He looked like he was about to cry good tears. Daisy ran. "Dad!"

"Daddy!" cried Ben.

Hardy rushed forward and clamped Daisy against him, fighting the tears that threatened to flood his closed eyes. "Daisy," he whispered. Her turned and hugged the boy in the wheelchair. He looked even sicker than he had at the hospital. "Ben. You're home. It's been very hard waiting for you."

"Pick me up, Daddy," Ben begged.

Daisy picked up the oxygen so their dad could, and then hugged him with one arm.

He beamed at them, eyes so watery he could barely see them. "Come on. Time to meet the rest of your family." He walked them to the door, Daisy bringing the wheelchair,where six people waited eagerly.

Ellie smiled as they passed her, and stepped to meet with the social workers who were removing suitcases she recognised from the boot of the car. "Thank you for not putting their things into black bags," she whispered tightly. "I think we've had as much indignity as we can take."

Helen nodded, noticing the tension in her frame. "They were confiscated from Mrs. Troup, along with the wheelchair. This is the last of their things that they brought with them on their holiday. We will let you know about the rest of their belongings still in Sandbrook."

Ellie nodded. "We've left that in the hands of my husband's lawyer. Much of the furniture in Tess' house belonged to his parents and he'd like that back. Once we get clearance, an old friend of Hardy's has agreed to transport them down for us. How is Hailey?"

"Officially, we can't tell you that," Helen replied.

"I know, but Daisy is going to ask. I need something to tell her."

Helen nodded in agreement. "Unofficially, since she's not actually under our care, she's fine. Apparently, still reluctant to return to her parents, and she's old enough that she can make that choice not to. But there has been contact now that the charges against her have been dropped. She's living with a foster family in Broadchurch."

"I didn't know there were foster families in Broadchurch. Why weren't Daisy and Ben placed in Broadchurch? In fact, why were they taken off us in the first place?"

"The actions of Mrs. Troup were unauthorised," Mrs. Price replied. "But we couldn't follow the recommendations of the CPP hearing until the adoption had gone through. It's a loophole in procedural law, and thankfully not many people get caught in it. Sadly, Mrs. Troup knew of it given her lengthy duration with Social Services, but no longer works in our department."

Ellie could have fainted with relief, but she contained herself to a comment of general gratitude. "Is it true that most of you lot work to the principle that all parents are murdering paedophiles until proven innocent, and think you're above the law?"

There was a long silence. Helen looked at her colleague, who turned her chalk-white reaction away.

"It has to be said that there are some social workers who are more zealous than others," she hedged. "And there are some who are just not personable. The aim of the service is to do all we can to ensure that children have access to everything they need to reach their full potential in a safe, healthy and happy environment, and we aim to make sure that is with the birth family where possible. Sadly, it's not always possible. In this case, your husband was misnamed as the abuser and not the innocent party. And for that we are truly and genuinely sorry."

Ellie knew that her husband had been thinking of himself that way for months. He had had to wait to be cleared despite being the only parent Daisy and Ben had left, despite being cleared of the murders before he had even filed for custody. And here was the culmination of all that fight. Now there would be a settling in time and a life to live.

"There are procedures to follow. Mrs. Troup followed them rather too zealously than was necessary and ignored the findings and recommendations of the CPP. And there is the matter that we can prove contact between her and Tess Hardy that our boss was not pleased to hear about. She will face an internal inquiry."

Helen would not admit to the pleasure she had when Mrs. Troup was confronted by her manager with the Conference minutes and the custody papers, the record of the call with Tess Hardy, or being informed she was out of a job – she had gone to Sandbrook personally, with her manager, to confront mind that pending on the results of a disciplinary hearing, she could be liable to criminal charges when the department handed the file to the police on charges of abduction and falsifying legal documents.

That was a relief to know, so Ellie dropped the subject.

"Daisy didn't have to go with her brother. She could have stayed with her father," the other woman mentioned.

"Would either of them have been comfortable without the other?" Ellie wondered. "Who knows his illness more than or as well as Daisy? She would never have allowed her brother to be in a strange place with strangers. She wouldn't even allow the man who was supposed to be his father near him."

Helen accepted that. "Ben needed as much continuity and familiarity as he could get. He still needs surgery. I hope the doctors can do the operation quickly now that he's home."

"The doctor said Ben was first on the list. So it could happen within days." Then Ellie added, "Shall we go in?"

The conversation was light, explaining what would happen next, that a key worker would take over the case on a CIN level, to make sure Ben had access to services for the disabled, and to make sure the family were coping well. She also gave them a leaflet for Young Carers and several other leaflets that may be of interest.

"One more thing," Helen added. "I've given Ben his oxygen and wheelchair back and he's fine for now, but I would get him seen tomorrow by the doctor who cared for him at the hospital. The foster carers called me with concerns and if they hadn't Ben would have died. I have the case notes, which once they've been seen by my manager, I'll share with you and Alec. The file could be the final nail in Mrs. Troup's coffin, if you will."

Ellie nodded. She felt a sense of dread creep in.

After the kids had settled in, Helen and Mrs. Priceleft them to their own devices. And Ellie made a quick phone call.

/=/=/=/=/

"Eight tomorrow morning...? Yes, we can bring him in that early... Yes, he is a lot weaker than he was the last time I saw him. He looks like he's lost weight... From what I've been told his wheelchair and oxygen were confiscated by the social worker who took the children from the hospital... No authorization... You'll be hearing about it, because I'll insist you're at any meetings about it... I think we can handle tomorrow for the surgery, if your staff is ready? Coz he's far too weak to wait any longer... We will do, but I hope it doesn't happen... Thank you. For everything... He has something to live for. I hope he'll come through just as his dad did... Yes, see you tomorrow."

Ellie hung up and approached the huddle of grinning faces in a knot on the sofa. Her husband was in the middle of it. Somewhere. Oh yes, there he was, the biggest grin of all. She should have known. Just as she should have known Olly would use his phone's camera to document the reunion and any extra precious moments, and probably make an article of them for the _Echo_. With their approval. "Good to have you two finally home. So, we'll have dinner in a minute. Lucy, could you give it a good stir for me, please? I'll show the kids where their rooms are."

Daisy reluctantly let go of her dad, Catherine on her hip as she got up to face her. "It's good to be home." Her smile fell into an uncertain expression. "May I call you Mum?"

Ellie was still not used to the feeling of her eyes watering so often. They were joyful tears, tinged with so much other more negative feelings, like having had to wait so long and them having to endure so much to get to this point. Even so, she hadn't expected to face this question so early on. "I did adopt you, so of course you can. If you want to."

An instant later - with Catherine handed to Tom - Daisy embraced her new mum. The tight hug brought more tears to each; Daisy had never known this kind of hug from Tess. Ellie felt overwhelmed with love for her new daughter.

Hardy smiled through his own tears of joy. His precious daughter finally had a mother who would give her the love she needed and deserved, and his son would be able to get the surgery that would let him have a more normal life.

Ben was not leaving his arms, evidently wanting to try to get all the love he had missed over nearly five years in one moment. Not that Hardy was feeling like letting go anytime soon. He had a lot to make up for. But he would later when he needed to spend some moments with Daisy, father and daughter time, catching up, getting to know each other all over again.

After introducing them to Aunt Lucy and their cousin Olly, the two latest additions had been hugged by their excited siblings. While Hardy carried Ben up the stairs, the oxygen tank in his other hand, Fred decided to be the talker, pointing out all the rooms, even pointing out the 'castle doorway' that had long been filled in at the top of the blind stairway at one end of their bedroom and the turret at the other. Lucy stayed downstairs, watching over the twins and dinner.

"Ben, you'll be sharing with your brothers. Fred's been excited about having company at night. Tom, you'll have the top bunk. Fred, you're at the bottom, and Ben, that's your bed."

Ben's eyes lit up as he looked over the room. The bottom bunk had dinosaur bedding that was very familiar to Fred. And on the pillow was a policeman teddy propped up tucked in ready for bedtime. Fred was overjoyed and hugged his teddy as if he hadn't seen him for weeks. Between the door and the bunk beds was a single bed by itself. And on the wall above the pillows hung a huge handmade sign proclaiming it 'Ben's Bed'. And on the bed itself was a familiar pair of toys. "My Minion! My doggy!"

Hardy smiled as he sat him down so he could hug his missed toys and gaze around the room that he would have to wait until he had had his pacemaker fitted to explore properly. Fred climbed up beside him and gave his favourite and most careworn teddy as a present, the policeman teddy.

"Ben can have it now," he offered. "Ben can be safe all the time with a policeman daddy teddy."

"Thank you," Ben said, letting go of the other toys and accepting both the teddy and a hug.

Hardy laughed gently at that, wiping away new tears as Olly captured the moment forever. "We had everything brought here for you. And look in the box," he urged Tom with a nod to opening it for him.

Tom opened the toy box under the window for Ben to see. Ben carefully got down from the bed and joined him, Hardy following behind with his oxygen. Ben squealed, drew out a few items in one swoop. "My toys! New toys!"

Tom grinned. He was just as exuberant as Fred, and probably would be even more so once he was better. "Some were my old ones. You got some awesome things in there."

"Thank you, Tom!" Ben hugged his big brother, items still in his little fists.

Tom returned the hug. The brother he had lost would have been a little older than Ben was now, but it was almost like he had never lost him. Like Ben had just stepped into the spot he had always been meant for in his heart.

Hardy stood, very pleased and proud of Tom and Fred's efforts to make their brother feel welcome. It was amazing to think that Fred willingly gave up the teddy he had given him nearly two years ago. But he wondered if Fred would remember.

He turned to the quietest member of the group. "Now for your room, Daisy."

Her face twitched, like she was torn between anxiety and anticipation. There was a concern for Ben on the stairs. What if he needed help during the night? What if he fell? How would he cope with being on his own at night?

"Don't worry," he assured her. "The doctor arrived just before you arrived to drop off fresh oxygen and a monitor. And a friend of ours is coming to fit hands rails on the stairs tomorrow morning."

"He's sicker than he was when we left hospital," Daisy spoke gently.

Hardy nodded. "I noticed that. I'll call the hospital in the morning, or earlier if need be. Come on, let's leave the boys to play for a bit."

"It's already done," Ellie spoke quietly near Alec's ear. "They want him in tomorrow morning at eight."

Her husband's relief was palpable.

As he and Daisy walked outof the boys' room,Ben pensively looked up at Ellie. After she had arrested his mum – his old mum, since he knew what 'adopting' meant– and Bruce in his hospital room, he had been a little frightened of her even though Daisy spoke of how nice she was. He was still a little nervous.

Ellie sighed and knelt beside him and Tom. "You don't have to call me 'Mum' if you're not ready to. I'll understand," she whispered.

Ben's eyes widened, beginning to warm to her. "Mymummy was not very nice," he softly admitted. He finally decided he wanted a hug from his new mummy after all and reached out to her.

A fresh round of tears slid from Ellie's eyes as she wrapped Ben into thewarmesthug possible. She noticed that her husband was barely holding it together where he stood by the door, but given the sounds she heard from Olly's direction none of their emotions would have been missed.

A moment later, Hardy stood next to Daisy outside another door. "This used to be Fred's room, but we managed to get it ready for you. We'll redecorate it for you as soon as we can." He opened it.

Daisy gasped. She had a bed, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. The colours of the room were her favourites, and posters that Chloe and Lara had put up matched the ones in her old room. And she loved the duvet cover. It was covered in messages from dozens of people, wishing her well.

"Where did these come from?" She pointed to a pile of Shout magazines, including the latest edition. "Oh! Mum never let me read these!" she squealed, her eyes lit up like moons.

"Chloe Latimer and Lara Daniels brought them," Ellie said from the doorway, holding Ben. He had the Minion tucked under one arm and the policeman teddy in the other, clearly happy in his new mum's arms. "They and the other girls in town wanted to help you feel welcome. You also have some clothes that they thought you _might_ like. They did some shopping on your behalf."

Daisy turned to her, a wide look of shock in her eyes. "They did?"

Tom laughed. "Yeah, I think the whole town turned up today. We've been very lucky. I don't know who organised it all, but I'm betting Chloe had something to do with it. Probably persuaded her parents to join in."

"They would have done it anyway," Hardy said. "They were the only people in town outside this family who believed in me when things started to go wrong."

"What do you mean, go wrong?" Daisy asked.

"There was a moment when it looked like my bosses thought I'd killed those girls. Thanks to my amazing wife I was cleared before it too far. She spent weeks combing through skip-loads of information to prove my innocence."

"But, aren't you Dad's alibi?"

"It had to be stronger than that," Ellie explained. "It had to be cast iron. And I had to describe a few things that were usually kept private."

"Aw," Hardy groaned. "Tell me you didn't mention breakfast in the shower!"

"Sorry. I had no choice."

Daisy looked at them both. "You have breakfast in the shower?"

Hardy hedged his options. "Occasionally."

Ellie's cheeks turned red, ignoring the grinning Tom, and the curious looks Ben and Fred were giving her and Alec. "It would be important to mention it, because it's proof of your innocence. I'll have to describe it in court and so will you, Alec. Anyway, you're dad's innocent and I had a good shouting match with my superior officers to prove it."

Daisy gave Ellie a smile of gratitude. "Thanks, Mum. You're really cool."

"And your hugs are nice," added Ben.

/=/=/=/=/

Ellie and Tom put away the dishes, making sure that the remains of the food were all taken care of. Not that there was much left after they had all eaten. Six kids and four adults got through a lot of food. And it seemed Daisy and Ben were very hungry, and she had admitted that neither had had much of an appetite after they were sent to the foster family. In fact, Ben seemed to have been that way since he was admitted to the hospital.

They had said goodbye to Auntie Lucy and Olly and were just sitting down read to have a lovely family afternoon, watch a DVD, just the eight of them, when they heard a knock at the door.

Hardy frowned. "I didn't want any interruptions today."

Tom bounced up. "I'll get it." He checked through the window and blinked before opening the door. He looked at the uniform she was wearing and recognised her face. "Hello?"

"Hello, Tom," the woman said. "May I come in?"

"Just a minute, I'll get my dad."

Tom, as expected, closed the door on her. He returned to the living room, looking confused.

"Who was it, Tom?" his dad asked, looking up from picking out a DVD for the children to watch.

"It's your boss," Tom replied. "She asked to come in, but I told her I had to get you first."

Hardy frowned and passed the DVD to Ellie. He followed his son back to the door and opened it. He blinked. "Hello, sir. Unexpected pleasure."

"Thanks. I have someone here who wishes to see Daisy," she said.

"Who?"

Elaine waved to a rather shy young girl, who approached the door and then flew into his arms with a relieved smile.

"Hailey," Hardy recognised at once, returning the embrace before drawing back for a good look at how she seemed. Her hair had grown enough to show her natural colour at the roots, and she looked like she was regaining her old health. He had to smile at the sight. "Hello. You're looking much better now. Where have you been?"

"I wasn't meant to tell anyone where I was, just in case," Hailey explained.

"So you got a police escort?" Hardy wondered. "Couldn't have got a finer one."

Elaine smiled.

"Uhm, she's my foster-carer," Hailey clarified.

"Really?" Hardy was surprised. "In that case, you definitely couldn't have got a finer one."

"She's nice. But her sons are a bit annoying," Hailey replied. "They keep insisting on bodyguard duties."

Hardy coughed a laugh and bit his tongue. "That's what brothers do, I'm afraid. I wish I'd had an older brother who did the same for me."

"That's what I told her," Elaine grinned.

Hailey lifted a large gift bag she was carrying. "I brought you presents for Ben and Daisy. I got Daisy's text this morning saying they were coming home today. But I didn't want anyone to be left out so I've got something for everyone."

Hardy took the bag, seeing nearly a dozen wrapped presents inside. "Thank you."

Tom had already gone to fetch his big sister. Daisy appeared and hugged her best friend tightly.

"Oh! I didn't know if I'd get to see you today!"

Hailey had brightened up tremendously on seeing Daisy. "I had to come, coz you're my bestie. And Chloe and Lara are going down to the arcade on Saturday with a group of friends. Do you want to come?"

Daisy looked at her dad.

He smiled gently. "'Course you can, but be back before dark."

Daisy and Hailey squeaked in delight. Finally they were able to be normal teenage girls.

Minutes later, after Elaine and Hailey had left, they opened their presents, finding little cupcakes and a toy each and figurines for Hardy and Ellie, and watched a movie together.

Ellie stood slowly, staring at the bags and boxes and paper strewn about. In her husband's lap, Ben had drifted off to sleep. "I can hardly believe what a day we're having."

Hardy smiled. "Best day ever."

"I've got a surprise for you, as well," Ellie revealed. "I've been keeping it in Lucy's garage for the past month."

Hardy, not wanting to move Ben from the plainly comfortable spot lying against him, just blinked at the little box she was holding out to him. "You... you didn't have to."

"I actually think I did," she said. "We have six kids and our car only has six seats."

There had been a bit of this when Harry and Catherine were born, and something a little less after the wedding. Hardy remembered how her friends had helped them so they could focus on being parents. It brought a few tears to his eyes, although she tried to dry them quickly.

"Something tells me that many someones have been busy these past few weeks," he said. He opened the hinge lid of the box, expecting a ring or some such. What he found a set of car keys for a Hyundai i800.

/=/=/=/=/

Half an hour later, Elaine, her husband, sons and Hailey sat in the Family Court. In Elaine's arms lay a sleeping baby with delicate coffee-coloured skin. He had been asleep for several minutes after his bottle of milk and very loud belch in the middle of proceedings.

"Enoch Hardy?" the magistrate considered the name carefully. "I have just finished an adoption for a family by that name this morning. What a coincidence."

Elaine smiled secretively.

"Any relation?" he asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Elaine replied. "This was Alec Hardy's grandson."

"Hmm," the judge mused. "Have you chosen a name for your new son?"

"We would like to keep his first name," Elaine's husband spoke. "His last name is Jenkinson."

Moments later, Enoch's uncertain future was replaced by a bright and loving future. All of a sudden, the Chief Superintendent was faced with a dilemma.

"I've just realised something."

"What's the matter, love?" her husband asked.

"I will need to file for maternity leave."

Her sons fell about laughing.

Elaine scuttled a laugh of her own. "Oh, that's not the funniest thing. Just wait until this gets around the station."

**ĐĐ**

**To be continued...**


	65. Episode 8, Part 7

**Title**: Broadchurch: Sins Of The Father

**Date of commencement: **September 22 2013

**Date of completion: **December 24 2014

**Series**: Broadchurch, a sequel to the original, and following on from Life Without Joe (only on LiveJournal, under lock)

**Rating**: M

**Authors**: tkel_paris and tardis_mole

**Summary**: Two years after Danny's death, life is slowly getting back to normal in Broadchurch. But Hardy's happy life is about to be turned upside down by a spectre from the past he had hoped had been laid to rest. Someone from his past wants to talk to him, someone wants revenge, someone wants to see him ruined. But it's not one 'someone'. But first, he must face the girl in his garden.

**Disclaimer**: We own nothing, but this is based on Broadchurch by Chris Chibnal, with added clues from the novel by Erin Kelly. We gain nor financial benefit nor gratuities, only the enjoyment from writing and working together on this epic journey, shared for the enjoyment of others.

**Dedication**: Chris Chibnal, long time friend. bas_math_girl, for her beta. And each other for hopefully not ruining each other's lives for too long during the writing part.

**Warning**: If you have not watched Broadchurch _in its entirety_, do not read this. We mean it. You will be spoiled. Stop and go back. Now. Ideally you have seen the entire show, not just what was aired on BBC America if you live on that side of the pond, but this is understandable in either case. Also, if you have not read tardis_mole's Life Without Joe, that's okay. It's possible to read this without reading that, if you're not on Moley's approved list. You'll probably find this makes a little more sense if you have read it, but you should be fine without it. Take the time to read Erin Kelly's novelization, if you can, as it provided certain details that helped with writing this. Though you won't need to rely on it.

**Authors' Notes:** See Episode One, Part One. They're a bit long to include in each post.

Excuse me a moment... I have to celebrate because this is an accomplishment with a slightly bittersweet ending. But..

(Wilf-style happy dancing) "Ding, dong, the balrog's done! (humming to the tune) Ding dong, the massive balrog's done!" (huge grin)

* * *

><p><strong>Episode Eight, Part Seven: Growing<strong>

At the general meeting in the CID room the next morning, the monthly updates were more promising than in previous months. All the major cases were in the CPS process. Broadchurch had once again sunk back into its usual petty crime status. It was more than enough for their small station.

And the rumour mill was in fine fettle as usual. Desai had had a baby girl. True. Frank was transferring to Weymouth CID. Not true. Hardy's son was due to have his surgery tomorrow. True. Much to everyone's relief. The only shame was that it had not already happened. And the Chief Super had a new man in her life. No one had missed hearing about that rumour. It had sent the office into a frenzy of speculation.

And no one could ask, because the Chief Super had not arrived at work. She was nowhere to be seen. But Desai, in for her KIT meeting, could swear under oath that she had seen the Chief Super downstairs, talking about taking her 'little man out'.

Hardy frowned deepest of all. "I can't imagine the Chief with a toy boy. Little man? What is he, a dwarf? She's almost as tall as I am. Besides, I thought she was happily married." He took a drink from his cup of coffee and looked up, seeing Elaine walking towards the CID doors. He quickly swallowed. "Boss is in," he warned across the floor and made for his office as everyone shuffled into seats and began to act busy.

Elaine pushed the door open and called out a good morning. Several 'morning, sir' came back. She stepped into Hardy's office as he was busy signing off paperwork. He looked up.

"Morning sir," he said. "What can I do for-?" He then looked again.

/=/=/=/=/

Ellie heard the door click shut and shared the bemused and somewhat shocked looks of her colleagues.

"Am I seeing things?"

"She's carrying a baby sling."

"No... She's older than I am... Isn't she?"

"Quiet," Ellie warned.

The outer doors swung inward and Super Sandra hurried in, "Morning. Anyone seen the Chief...?" Almost went right passed the glass fronted DI's office, "Oh, never mind." She slid to a stop and knocked and went in.

The DCs and DSs outside looked on in astonishment as a baby emerged from the sling half hidden beneath Elaine's uniform jacket. Ellie stood up, realising there was something familiar about that baby. The baby now in her husband's arms.

She slapped a hand over her mouth. She expected him to burst into tears. He had so wanted that baby to come home with them. But he didn't; he smiled, as if it had been a stranger's baby, or at the most the child of a friend. Andthe baby boy was smiling back. She had to smile at the man she loved playing with a tiny baby. His dad side was the best of his talents, in her book.

It was a pity, in a way, that they were not having any more.

/=/=/=/=/

The gathering at the Hardy-Miller home was huge. The living room, as big as it was, was packed. It was a combined birthday party and welcome home party. It seemed that most of the town wanted to welcome Daisy and Ben, and many seemed to want to make it up to their father for doubting him earlier in the year.

Help in English towns ran along charity rather than guilt, but once again their reluctance to trust the outsider who joined them had likely contributed to making an already bad situation worse. So many were trying their best to let him know that they would be on Hardy's side from hereon in, in whichever way felt natural and best to each person.

It felt a little weird to be part of the community, but he knew he would get used to it. He had children and a wife with ties to Broadchurch. He was likely going to be there until he was old, if not buried.

The younger him would have laughed at the thought. Him? Living in Broadchurch? The seaside town where he had hidden like a coward for twelve hours? He would have told whoever said it exactly where they could shove it. Not that his ideas would have been as creative as Ellie's.

It was strange having so many in the house at once, but it was a pleasant atmosphere. The Latimers had taken it upon themselves to be assistant hosts and make it easy for the newest Hardy children to feel at home in this new town to them.

Although the bigger reason was to celebrate Ben's return from the hospital just a few days before. The surgery was a success, and his life was saved. Although, he would remain in the wheelchair for a while yet. But he was much stronger than he had been, much to everyone's relief. That was why the party had been postponed, to give him time to recover.

"Hardy, how is Daisy?" Mark asked him. "Chloe says she's fitting well into school. Hailey, too."

Hardy was not sure how he was pulled into a conversation with Mark, Bob Daniels, and the rest of the five-a-siders. Football had never been his thing, but he knew enough to join in the general topics, which surprised him as much as it surprised them. But the conversational gambit showed that he had been accepted into their circle.

He turned and noticed Daisy and Hailey - who was still reluctant to return to Sandbrook until after the trial - seated with Chloe's circle of friends, evidently well-being filled in on the necessary knowledge to be part of their group. She had fitted well into school, for her final year and hadn't fallen behind at all. "All her work has been transferred from her old school and has luckily only had to drop one class that clashed. The tutor for that subject offered her lunchtimes and three evenings after school to help her finish the course, rather than having to drop the subject mere months before the final exam."

"Thank god for small miracles," said Mr. Jenkinson. "Hailey's having a similar situation, only she has to start the entire year again to make up for the months she missed due to..." He left it unspoken. "Daisy looks much healthier."

"Her new doctor at the hospital said that she had some ideas she wanted to run by Royal Infirmary in Weymouth. There might be some things that could help Daisy live more easily with her Crohn's, and even make it possible for her to go to university next September."

Daisy wanted to be a doctor, if she couldn't be a policeman. Maybe. He could hope she could have that bit of normality.

A sudden burst of laughter broke into his thoughts. He blinked. He hadn't heard that laugh in years, and there she was. Almost sounding like she had before the Sandbrook case fell apart. He did not remember Daisy laughing after that, now that he thought about it. And looking at the light that was in her eyes, he knew she was starting to be happy again. That the pain of having and giving up a child, piled on top of everything else she had dealt with, was slowly receding.

Thank God.

She had grown into a beautiful young woman. Her honey-blonde hair falling like a curtain around her shoulders. There was a smile he also hadn't seen in far too many years. And looking at her, you couldn't tell she had had a child. She had been blessed that way like her mother.

The accompanying laughter from Hailey – who was letting her hair grow so the dyed strands could eventually be cut off rather than dyed again – added to the smile on Hardy's lips. She, too, was healing.

And from the look on Mr. Jenkinson's face it was an increasingly common sound in their home. "We'll miss her when she goes, but that's some way off yet," he quietly remarked.

Nearby Olly was surrounded by well-wishers, his mother the formost of them. "Look at him! My son, in charge of the _Echo_!"

Olly turned a little pink, but the pride was too strong. "It's amazing, but it feels strange not answering to Maggie." He turned to his mentor. "We'll miss you."

"Oh, I'll come to visit. You're not getting rid of me completely," Maggie teased. "I'll be checking in often with my best-selling protégé." He hadn't published his book yet, but the publisher was enthusiastic.

The words attracted the attention of Tom and his friends."Your book has already got orders and it's not even been printed yet,"Tom commented, a big element of cousinly pride in his voice. "We talked about it at school the other day. That and your article. I can imagine how mad Karen White must be, if she knows about it."

Maggie and Olly exchanged smirks, ruthlessly suppressing the glee they both felt. Released just three weeks ago, the article had spread like wildfire and garnered the _Echo_ hundreds of calls. "Amazing how something that holds back information about ongoing cases can prove a better seller than the detailed but flawed stuff she got to print," Olly said instead."Still, it won't be the same around here without Maggie Radcliffe. And now she's being deliberately vague about her plans."

She smiled, knowing he was covering for her. "I'm glad we got the _Herald_ to publish a sincere apology to Hardy and the other families. When is Karen's trial, again?"

"Inthree months,"Olly said. "About time, too. Once that and the other trials are done we can finally go back to normal around here."

"A better normal," Tom insisted, looking over his shoulder, willing to take time away from his own circle to make sure that his delicate new brother was okay.

Ben was seated in his chair, playing with Fred and other children their age, sitting around the table playing one of Fred's favourite board games. Ben was laughing along with them, looking so much healthier and off the oxygen. While he would never be well, he would be able to enjoy childhood again.

"Look at our honorary board bro," said Adam Jenkinson. "Welcome regular at the park to watch us practice."

Tom grinned. His dad had seen him showing off things on his laptop, and Ben had loved it. A mutual hero-worship was already in place, and Tom was loving it, too.

"You're proving as good a little brother as a big brother," praised Lucy. "He's very protective of Daisy. She even seems to like it now," she added to Hardy as he paused on his way around the room, picking up snippets of conversation as he went. He affirmed it with a smiling nod.

The twins were near Ellie and playing on the floor with Christopher. They were playing with a shape sorter, a stacking train and a walker trolley. Ellie was seated so she could watch them was seated next to her, hearing insights about children and motherhood. The light caught the engagement ring on her finger. She had finally accepted Coates's offer.

"The wedding will be next summer, now that my mum has been placed in a nursing home. I couldn't take care of her anymore, even if I didn't have the baby."

The children on the floor had company in the vicar, who had never been seen smiling as much as he did when he was around his baby daughter and fiancée. Natalie's house was up for sale and her things in storage, since she had moved in with their arguments seemed a bit more playful since they were planning for a future, but he suspected that they might discover they enjoyed the bickering - almost as much as Hardy and Ellie did.

Ellie smiled as Coates drew a bit closer, handing hisdaughter, Josie,to Natalie. "You certainly endured some pointed comments and teasing over your actions, once the initial anger about your choice had subsided," she teased.

He grimaced before a good-natured smile crossed his lips. "Probably helped that the news about the arrests came so soon after. It gave the town something else to focus on."

"Speaking of, why did some of the older members of town have odd looks when the news broke?"Ellie asked.

Natalie and Coates exchanged a tense look before he sighed, accepting responsibility for answering. "The priest who took advantage of her mum?" he replied quietly. "His name was Paul Cote. C-O-T-E. No 'A'. No 'S'. No relation, thank god."

As Natalie's twisted look showed her agreement, Ellie's eyes widened. "I'd forgotten about him."

"Most preferred to," Natalie softly said. "I'm just glad Mum finally softened toward my Paul. Probably helped that she got to see a grandchild before she went completely blind."

Ellie cleared her throat. "I need a break."

Coates and Natalie nodded, silently affirming that they had things in hand.

As she got up, Ellie was surprised that her husband had not yet tired of the crowd, but it seemed like he had earned Mark and Bob's respect, and so they had found ways to make him feel comfortable talking about whatever they talked about. Given the look in Hardy's eyes, he was probably giving them a hard time about some sport thing that had happened the past week that they had lost at or missed hearing about.

It was good to see him finally feeling at home.

She stepped outside for a breather. The air felt good, chilly and a sign of the coming autumn. It was almost November. Which meant it was almost Christmas, as her dear old mum used to say. Christopher would be two years old soon. The second anniversary of the twins being conceived was coming soon. It would have crept up and passed her by, unnoticed, had Alec not reminded her of it that morning with a replay of the action. His words.

"Danny would have loved this party."

Ellie started at the sound of Beth's voice. She saw a small smile of remembrance in her eyes, and allowed a little one of her own to appear. "He liked any reason to celebrate, didn't he?"

Beth sniffled and wiped away a tear. "He would have been a good big brother to Christopher." She shivered, but it was not from the cold. "I hate to think that if wasn't for... what Joe did... that you wouldn't be able to be a mum to two children who needed one."

And the twins would not exist, Ellie thought silently. She cleared her throat. "It's not something I like to think about."

"I meant it when I said I forgave you."

"And I meant it when I answered your accusation."

"What accusation?"

It was branded in Ellie's mind and still plagued her, shadowed her every move, her every day, her watchfulness of her husband. As if she couldn't quite trust again. "'How could you not know?'"

Cringing, Beth put a hand on her arm. "I was so angry. I couldn't believe that anyone could be married and not know what their spouse was like, but... truth was I didn't believe Mark could... you know. I was more angry at myself for not knowing about him cheating."

Beth did not like to even mention the fling with Becca Fisher, Ellie knew. Not that she blamed her. She did not like to recall her husband's admission of the near proposition toward Becca, even though nothing had happened. He had been really lonely. She understood it, but it did not mean she liked it.

Beth continued, as if unaware of her friend's thoughts. "It was wrong of me to not trust you. I should have known that you would have done something if you had suspected for a moment."

"I have an answer for you."

"Another one?"

"Yes," Ellie explained. "Because I had to help Alec stop asking himself the same thing, and the same question I have asked myself every day since, especially during this year's case. Could he be another Joe? I watch Alec and I shouldn't need to. I love him, and I know he wouldn't, but I can't trust myself, my judgement. I'm trying to. And Alec; he felt that he should have known about his ex because there was reason to know that Tess was not someone he could trust. He's felt so guilty about what she did that he didn't know about. He would have known before I did who had killed the girl found in our driveway, but he had been pulled from the team and had to sit on what he knew for weeks, unable to speak out, unable to believe what he was thinking. And I waded in from deep end to the shallows, like it was syrup, and it took me weeks."

Beth thought a moment, and took a deep breath. "We all have trust issues. But while mine might have been hardest to bear for me and in some ways justified when it comes to Mark, yours with Alec are unfounded. I've seen him with Christopher and he plays with him as if he's playing with Harry. Kids are his absolute joy. He's got a gift with them and seems to come alive. Since you had the twins he's come out of his shell, where as when you had Fred, Joe went into one. And the difference since Ben and Daisy have come to live with you is even stronger. There is no way Alec is Joe."

Ellie looked at her in gratitude for the support. She still needed to finish her answer. "It's possible for someone to hide things from you if you have no reason to suspect them of _those _things. If there are things going on in your life to explain them away, it's all too easy to accept the alternative explanations. Lucy was an easy target to explain the missing money because Joe didn't take responsibility. I had been expecting her to take from us. But he didn't just lie to me, he let me think she'd done it. In Alec's case, he believed that Tess was fixated on becoming DI, so he felt confident that she would never do anything to jeopardise that. That belief was shaken by the robbery and utterly shattered with her committing murder. He certainly knows that now and has beat himself up over it for months. You know what made your words hit the hardest?"

Beth shook her head.

"I had asked the same question of a suspect in Danny's murder. Her husband had abused her kids and she said she didn't know, but I had trouble believing that."

Beth was aghast. "How can you compare your situation to _that_?! That had to be going on under her own roof. That _should _have been known. She had to have suspected _something_. What I heard happened in your house... that would have looked normal, as much as I hate to say it. I heard the evidence and the testimony, and as much as I wanted to scream at you, I couldn't. Not even that night, but maybe that was because I didn't have the energy to raise my voice. And I never could. Because the loudest scream in my head was at me. Why didn't I know my husband was cheating? Why didn't I know Danny was going out and meeting Joe behind our backs? You see? That's what this was all about. I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at myself. And I couldn't tell you. I'm shocked that you and I both believed anything he said."

Ellie accepted that. It seemed easier now that she knew and it made so much sense. "What got to me was that Joe had left the boys alone. It wasn't that I couldn't see it. It was Alec's reaction to him leaving the boys on their own. According to his seconder he looked like he was about to read Joe the riot act, just for that."

"There you go, then," Beth chided.

Ellie fell silent, thinking. "We assume that we know someone, but sometimes we can never know what goes on in their heads. I wanted to believe that we had revived our marriage, but I think Tom was wiser than that. Even Fred... I don't think he remembers Joe, and I think that's for the best. He had him every day, but it's Alec he's attached to. Fred never said 'Daddy' until Alec moved in."

"That's as much of a point against Joe's parenting skills as a medal for Alec's?"

"Maybe. But I guess what it all told me was that that sometimes we can have all the best detection skills in the world, and we can still be betrayed by our emotions or what we think we know about someone. That's the best answer I have. I assumed I knew Joe. Just as I assumed I knew everyone in this town. Alec said to not trust anyone, that anyone is capable of murder if pushed far enough. At one point I admitted to Joe that the longer the case dragged on the more I suspected everyone. But not the one person I should have. I came away from that wondering if I would ever be able to trust again, and I was pushed to that because I was faced with imagining I had married a second man capable of killing."

Beth thought a moment. "As little as I trusted him, I don't think I could've thought Alec Hardy capable of killing anyone except in self-defence or in defence of another. Especially a child. His detachment... it was almost a blessing at first. No empathy, no pity, just a determination to solve the case. He had the right instincts. I just didn't trust them."

"I didn't trust him then, either. That was because I didn't know the truth about Sandbrook. Now I understand why he kept it quiet. But there's a balance between keeping things private and telling too much. The correct balance in each case wasn't found, but I think we've learned enough here that we might keep it from ever happening again. Not that I ever want another murder to come to Broadchurch. I'd be happy if I never see another one in my life."

Beth took a deep breath. "Me, too." She touched Ellie's arm. "Thanks. I guess I never thought to compare my feelings of betrayal to yours. Yours was the worse of the two."

"It doesn't alter that you were hurt."

"But you needed a friend."

"You weren't able to be the kind of friend you naturally are. You had enough to deal with."

"Ladies, I didn't come out here to stop an argument."

They both weren't surprised that Hardy stepped out. Ellie smirked. "Finally had enough football, did you?"

"The football is fine, the kids are fine, the food isn't burning. I just needed a moment."

Beth smiled. "I'll leave you both to your quiet break."

After she stepped inside, Hardy stepped closer to meet Ellie's eyes. "What was that about?"

"Giving her an answer to that question that you still ask yourself."

He grimaced. "I could've lived a thousand years without knowing that answer."

"But you stopped beating yourself up about it."

"That's what you think. Have you?"

Ellie shrugged. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know. No," she replied honestly. "Give it more time. Besides, you showed Joe up constantly and it seems I easily showed Tess up."

"Almost from the start."

"Almost?"

"I had to see proof that you were a good copper."

They both looked up at the stars, the slightly cloudy night feeling very comfortable despite the chill in the air. Had to be the atmosphere inside and the joy in family being reunited at long last.

"The real reason I came out to join you is that the Chief Super has asked us to be godparents to Enoch."

Ellie's jaw dropped. "Oh god. Does Daisy know?"

He nodded quietly. "I thought she was going to scream or cry, but she didn't. She brought me to shame with her maturity," he whispered. "My god, Ellie. That's my daughter in there. All grown up. And I was a granddad for those few short weeks. There's few boxes left to tick."

"Except godfather. Have you ticked that one?"

"No."

"There you go. Still life to live," she teased.

He breathed a laugh,kissed her sweetly and tucked her into his chest to wrap her in his arms.

"Six children under one roof," Ellie mused after a long silence. "We're lucky the younger ones can share for now. What'll we do when they start growing and can't share the same room?"

He smirked. "I was thinking of applying for Income Support, but that's a valid point, could always open up the roof space. Or build an extension, just in case we end up adding another one."

He was not surprised that she punched him in the arm. He slowly smiled. Life was good.

**ĐĐ**

**The End**


End file.
